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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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THIS WAS QUITE A JOKE. 


ROMULUS AND REMUS 


A DOG STORY 


BY 

CHARLES R TALBOT 

vv 


Author of 

Royal Lowrie 

Royal Lowrie’s Last Year at St. Olaves 
Honor Bright 
A Double Masquerade 
etc., etc. 



ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK T MERRILL 


of ( 'L> 

copyr, g >v. 


BOSTON 

D LOTHROP COMPANY 


FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS 


pU*> 


Copyright, 

by 



1S88 


D. Lothrop Company. 


CONTENTS 


\ 


CHAPTER I. 

A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU 9 

CHAPTER II. 

THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW ... 22 

CHAPTER III. 

THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY ... 37 

CHAPTER IV. 

AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG ... 53 

CHAPTER V. 

ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 67 

CHAPTER VI. 

A MORNING RECEPTION 82 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE HEPTAGON ROOM I05 


VI 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER VIII. 

AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION . . . . 12 8 

CHAPTER IX. 

» 

A LITTLE SURPRISE 141 

CHAPTER X. 

TWO COUSINS FROM CORK 1 54 

CHAPTER XI. 

SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE . . . . 1 77 

CPIAPTER XII. 

ROMULUS ET REMUS . . . . . 199 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 





Page. 

THIS WAS QUITE A JOKE 

• 

• 

Front. 

SINKER HOTCHKISS APPEARS IN 

CAMP 

• 

• 51 

IT WAS A DESPERATE MOMENT 

• • 

• 

• 77 


“he is not mine,’’ said the young lady firmly 123 

THEY CAUTIOUSLY ADVANCED BETWEEN THE HEDGES l6l 
THE OLD COMMODORE STOOD FIRMLY, WEAPON IN 


HAND 


187 






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ROMULUS AND REMUS. 


CHAPTER I. 

A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 



DRISTRAM TUCKER- 
MAN, a young gentleman 
in knickerbockers, eye- 
glasses and a tennis suit, 
lay on the lawn before his 
father’s house, his chin 
resting in his hands, read- 
ing a book. He was thoroughly comfortable, at this 
moment, in mind and body. It was a lovely June 
day ; his position was comfortable ; he had just 
passed, without condition, his entrance examina- 
tions at college, and the long vacation was all 
before him ; and he was reading a book that 


10 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


pleased him very much. He presently took off 
his eyeglasses (he always took off his eyeglasses 
when he spoke to anybody, even though it were 
an imaginary person) and, tapping the page before 
him, he approvingly exclaimed, “ Henry, my boy, 
permit me to observe that whatever anybody 
‘else may think, I believe that you know what you 
are talking about. That is philosophy ! ” He 
tapped the book again. Then he closed it and 
threw it (not ungently) from him, and taking 
out his handkerchief thoughtfully polished his eye- 
glasses. “And I don’t see,” he continued, “why 
I shouldn’t go and do exactly the same thing.” 

The book was a small volume, bound in brown 
muslin, of that certain style and appearance which 
a well-known Boston firm gave uniformly to its 
standard publications fifteen or twenty years ago $ 
and its title, as one now seeks it, is Walden . It 
is, therefore, no less a personage than Mr. Tho- 
reau whom Master Tuckerman has thus apos- 
trophized as “ Henry, my boy,” and of .whose 
wisdom and good sense he has been speaking in 
terms of such patronizing approval. But if the 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


II 


Sage Of Walden could have appeared to him in 
the flesh at that instant, he would have jumped up 
and taken off his hat to him with all the reverence 
in the world. And the dear old philosopher, we 
need not doubt, would have smiled benignantly 
upon him; and liked him all the better for what 
he had overheard; and given him some quaint, 
kindly advice, too, as to the carrying out of his 
scheme. That scheme, it will be understood, was 
the going into the woods somewhere and living 
all by himself, as Mr. Thoreau himself had done ; 
though no doubt Tristram would do this in his own 
way if he did it and more for the fun of the thing 
than for its principle. 

And of course he did do it. That is what this 
story is about. Early the next Monday morning 
he began his preparations. He had his wagon half 
loaded and was calculating that he would be ready 
to start by noon, when his friend Johnnie Lover- 
ing appeared upon the scene. 

Johnnie Lovering was a short, stout, round- 
faced, not particularly bright, but thoroughly^good- 
natured lad, whose name, after a fashion they hrave 


12 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


at Mowry and Goff’s, had been shortened by his 
schoolmates into “ Lovey ” — a term not exactly 
descriptive, it is to be feared, of the place the 
young gentleman held ,in their affections. Not 
that anybody really dislik*ed “ Lovey ; ” he was 
too good humored for that. But he was rather a 
tiresome fellow; he was too indolent to take active 
part in out-of-door sports; and he had the name 
of thinking more of what he ate and drank than of 
anything else on earth — all qualities which, al- 
though in his case they were only laughed at, 
were not yet calculated to make him popular with 
his fellows. The Loverings and the Tuckermans 
were near neighbors; and ever since their pina- 
fore days Johnnie had always been excessively 
fond of Tristram’s society, a passion which the 
latter found at times very inconvenient. 

Johnnie, with his hands in his pockets and an 
unmistakable air of having just eaten a good 
breakfast, came sauntering into the stable yard 
where Tristram was at work, about half-past 
nine. 

“ I say,” he uttered, surveying with astonishment 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


r 3 


the vast pile of goods — tents, tins, blankets, 
tools and various articles and implements — which 
Tristram proposed to take with him, “you’re not 
going to move, are you ? ” 

“Ah, it is you, is it?” Tristram responded, 
pausing in his work and transferring to his visitor 
the scowl with which he had been at that moment 
regarding a double oil-stove which he found too 
heavy to lift into the wagon. “You don’t mean 
to say you’re only just through your breakfast ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” said Johnnie. “ That is, I’m just 
through with my second breakfast. I’ve had two 
breakfasts this morning : one with father, when he 
went down town, and one with the rest, later. We 
had some awful nice muffins, you know ” — 

“ All right,” Tristram bluntly interrupted. “ If 
you’ve had two breakfasts you’re just in trim to 
help me put this stove on the wagon. Take hold 
here, will you ? ” 

So Johnnie took hold; and then, having helped 
further to bestow upon the load an ice cream 
freezer, a tool chest, and several other articles 
more or less heavy, he renewed his inquiry. 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


14 

“ Well,” said Tristram in answer, “ I’m going 
to turn Waldensian.” 

“Going to turn what ? ” asked Johnnie, looking 
at him as though he had said he was going to turn 
Hindoo. 

“ I’m going to follow in the footsteps of the il- 
lustrious Thoreau.” 

“The illustrious Tau Rho! ” Johnnie repeated 
the name — just as it sounded to him — as though 
it were made up of two Greek letters. “ Who in 
the world is he ? ” 

“ He,” explained Tristram, “ was a wise man of 
Concord who thought it all nonsense for people to 
live in houses they couldn’t half pay for, and wear 
good clothes just for other people to look at, and 
who went into the woods and built him a shanty 
by a pond, and lived in it a whole year for twenty- 
eight dollars and ninepence.” 

“And v is that what you’re going to do?” in- 
quired Johnnie, profoundly mystified. 

“Well, yes, or something like that. I’m go- 
ing into the woods to live — for a week or two, at 
least — all by myself.” 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


*5 


Johnnie allowed his imagination to dwell for a 
moment upon the scheme thus indicated, and his 
eye kindled. “That’s a capital notion,” said he. 
“ Only you ought not to go alone.” 

“ Why not ? ” asked Tristram. 

“ Oh ! because you oughtn’t. Take me with you 
— will you ? ” 

Tristram gravely shook his head. “ I don’t think 
my friend Thoreau would approve.” 

“ O, yes, he would. Come ; do take me.” 

“ I can’t do it, dear. It’s the whole point of the 
thing, going alone.” 

“ You’ll be dreadfully lonesome.” 

“That’s just what I’m going for — to be lone- 
some,” observed Tristram dryly. 

“ O, but I want to go awfully. Please take me, 
Tris.” Johnnie spoke nowin accents of entreaty. 

But Tristram still shook his head. “ I can’t do 
it. It’s against the Waldensian principles. Isn’t 
it, Rom?” 

The last words were addressed to a new comer, 
a handsome Gordon Setter dog, who at that instant 
entered the stable yard and came trotting up to 


1 6 A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 

Tristram. The latter looked down at him fondly. 
“ We don’t need any company to keep us from 
being lonesome, do we ?” 

“Oh ! ” cried Johnnie with great bitterness. “ So 
you’re going to take him, are you ? ” 

“ Well, I should think so ! ” was the answer. 

“ Humph ! What would your Mr. Tau Rho say 
to that ? Did he take a dog with him ? ” 

“ No ; but he would have, if he’d had such a 
dog as Rom. He didn’t take an ice cream freezer, 
or an oil-stove, or a patent boiler ; but I’m going 
to. You see ” — Tristram rubbed his chin with his 
eyeglasses rather sardonically — “I’m using Tho- 
reau’s idea, but with modern improvements. He 
says himself that if anybody tries his plan, he 
hopes they’ll do it in their own way.” 

“Then why not take me ? ” persisted Johnnie. 
“What? — as a ‘modern improvement’? No, 
my dear boy, I should have to class you as a lux- 
ury. And I mustn’t take any luxuries.” 

And then, still laughing, he stooped and held 
out his hand to the dog. “ Romulus, old fellow,” 
said he in tones of good-humored affection, “give 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 




me your paw. Never since the day when first I 
beheld thee, a little shivering pup at a Boston 
Bench show (and loved thee instantly and re- 
solved to make thee mine at any cost), never 
since that day have thou and I been separated for 
a single night. And now they ask if I am going 
to take thee with me. Indeed I am ! I might 
leave my boots behind me, or my tennis racket, 
or my head ; but thee — Wherever I go, thou 
goest.” 

He took the dog’s head between his hands and 
rubbed it fondly as he finished, and then with a 
playful pull at his ears, he let him go. Romulus, 
who had, to tell the truth, listened to this harangue 
and submitted to his master’s caresses with an air 
of being rather bored, turned at once and trotted 
away again. He was, at a glance, a fine specimen 
of his breed, perfectly made and marked, well 
grown, although not yet past the days of puppy- 
hood, and with a good deal of the manners and 
clumsiness of the puppy still clinging to him. His 
master, who valued him rather as a pet and com- 
panion than for purposes of hunting, had taken no 


1 8 A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 

special pains with his training, and had indeed 
done more to spoil than to improve him. 

Johnnie, when Rom had gone, earnestly resumed 
his entreaties to be allowed to join the proposed 
expedition, using all the arguments he could think 
of to show that it would be to Tristram’s advan- 
tage to take him along — to all which, save one, 
the latter turned a deaf ear. This one — which 
prevailed, finally — is worth repeating. 

“ You won’t enjoy it, I know you won’t,” John- 
nie had gloomily declared at the last. “Just think 
what a doleful time you’ll have, sitting down to 
dinner all by yourself. You won’t be able to eat 
a mouthful. It’s too bad, too — such capital din- 
ners as you get up.” 

It was these words that touched a tender chord 
in Tristram’s heart and caused him to waver. 
Johnnie saw his advantage and pressed it. “You 
know it’s no fun to cook for yourself alone. Is it, 
now ? ” 

Tristram soberly shook his head. “ No,” he 
acknowledged, “ it isn’t.” Alas, nobody knew it 
better than he. Cooking was his hobby. He 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


1 9 


delighted in it, and prided himself upon his skill. 
But, as Johnnie had said, where would be the fun 
of cooking with nobody to cook for ? 

“ And you once said I was just the person you 
would like to cook for,” pursued Johnnie. “ Don’t 
you remember V 9 

Yes, Tristram remembered. And he had said 
it with all sincerity. If there was a person in the 
world fond of good things to eat, it was Johnnie. 
And he had an unfailing appetite and a perfect 
digestion. Yes; Lovey was just the person Tris- 
tram would like to cook for. 

“ Very well,” said he, “ I ’ll . take you. You’ll 
want some blankets, some old clothes, a net ham- 
mock, your fishing rod, your tennis racket, and 
not your concertina. I am quite certain Mr. 
Thoreau would not have approved of that. Be 
on hand here at twelve o’clock.” 

And so, later in the day, mounted upon the 
wagon, with their load of bnpedimenta behind them 
and Romulus trotting merrily along beside the 
wheel, they set out upon their journey. They 
rode northward all that day and a portion of the 


20 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


next — through Diamond Hill and Cumberland, 
across the State line, and well up into Massachu- 
setts. The morrow’s sun was just marking the 
hour of noon as, from a lofty point in their road, 
suddenly burst upon their view — like the Pacific 
upon that of Balboa — the object of their quest. 
Right before them, only a mile away, lay a pretty 
country village, roofed with elms, its red roofs and 
tall spires and white, outlying farms “fair shining 
in the sun”; and to its left, deep hidden among 
grassy slopes and forest thickets, a beautiful pond 
of water, several miles in extent, glittered on their 
sight. Tristram raised a shout as he beheld it. 
“Lo, there is our Walden. On the banks of yon- 
der pond we will make our camp.” 

By a road which skirted the village, and then 
by a cart track which led through field and wood, 
they made there way at length to the shore of 
the pond and rested there, well content with the 
nearer view that greeted them. The lake (for 
lake it was rather than pond) was lovely beyond 
description — a perfect picture with its limpid 
water reflecting the blue sky, its rocky islands, its 


A DISCIPLE OF THOREAU. 


21 


wooded borders, the wondrous shadows wrought 
upon its surface by the overhanging trees. From 
its further shore a soft breeze came over and re- 
freshed the heated travellers. The water broke, 
with a low, lapping sound, upon a sandy beach 
at their feet. A small skiff with oars within it, 
lay half drawn from the water close at hand. An 
unused boat-house, with a platform before it built 
over the water, stood there with open door. 

“Yes,” Tristram said again, “this is exactly 
what we were looking for. That boat-house will 
serve us for a dwelling. The platform, with canvas 
spread over, will make a capital veranda. This 
grove, with its carpet of pine needles, shall be our 
parlor. This sandy basin here is our bath-tub. 
The boat will take us about. The pond is our well 
and fish-market. Everything is complete.” 

“Yes,” assented Johnnie. “ And over yonder 
is an ice-house where we can get our ice. We 
can have lemonade and ice cream every day.” 

And so, without asking yes or no of anybody, 
they took possession of the spot. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 

RISTRAM was very fond of fishing. “ Nulla 



dies sine linea” he had observed to Johnnie 
as they sat looking out over the pond on the even- 
ing of their arrival ; and then he had gravely 
supplied the English for his Latin : “No day with- 
out its fish-line,” or, still more freely, “ Lovey, 
my boy, we’ll go a-fishing every day.” 

In pursuance of this resolve the two boys, ac- 
companied of course by Romulus, had pulled 
across the pond the very next morning and flung 
their tackle in a shady nook that seemed to prom- 
ise well for their purpose. The fish however did 
not bite ; and at length, directed by a man on 
shore, they had landed and made their way a half- 
mile or more across the fields to a smaller tract of 
water known as Pickerel Pool, where they found 


22 


THE ADVENTURES OK A SCARECROW. 


capital sport and, in an hour’s time, captured a 
basketful of good-sized pickerel and perch. Re- 
turning just before noon they stopped a moment 
at a farmhouse, Tristram remaining outside while 
his friend went in to beg an onion or two with 
which to season their dinner. Rom meanwhile 
went off toward the barn on an exploring expedi- 
tion of his own. 

Presently Tristram, growing tired of waiting, 
started on alone. A short distance along the road 
was a bar-way which led, by a wheel-track along 
the edge of a cornfield, back to where they had 
left the boat. Just beyond this bar-way, fastened 
to a tree, was a yellow pony and village cart ; the 
cart, harness and mountings all matching the pony 
as nearly as was possible in color — a rather strik- 
ing little turnout which our hero regarded for a 
moment with interest, wondering how it came to 
be there. Then he turned into the bar-way. 

Half-way along the wheel-track he halted under 
a large oak-tree that stood close to the stone wall, 
and (his friend still being nowhere in sight) sat 
down to wait. Just before him, two or three rods 


24 the adventures of a scarecrow. 

away, a scarecrow — a curious combination of 
broomsticks and old clothes — kept rigid guard 
over the growing corn, as yet too young to be left 
to itself. Tristram called out to it and jocularly 
bade it good day, reminded at the same time of 
a passage from his friend Thoreau in which the 
writer speaks of passing a cornfield one day and 
“ recognizing, in a coat and hat upon a stake, the 
owner of the farm himself, only a little more 
weather-beaten than when he saw him last.” And 
the lad reflected, looking down at his own some- 
what extraordinary attire (he had on a soiled can- 
vas game-coat, a pair of wading boots, and his 
trousers, as it happened, had been sadly torn that 
morning by the tramp through the woods) that he 
would not 'make a bad scarecrow himself. After 

a moment he lay back upon the grass with his 

* 

hands clasped beneath his head and listened 
drowsily to the droning hum of insects that filled 
the air, and the monotonous cawing of crows in 
the distant wood. And thus, without meaning to 
do anything of the kind, he fell asleep. 

He was awakened, it could hardly have been 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 25 

many minutes later, by the sotfnd of voices close 
at hand. He started up and sat staring about 
him, confused and astonished. 

“Now, Auntie!” “Now, Jemima!” “If you 
do tell of me!” “Well, if I do?” “I’ll never 
speak to you again as long as I live. You’re too 
bad ! ” 

These were the first words that Tristram dis- 
tinctly heard. The voices were feminine, one of 
them rather childish and petulant, the other high- 
pitched also, in laughing mockery of the first. 
They came from a point directly behind him, over 
the wall. A moment’s silence ensued. 

Tristram very cautiously turned his head; but 
the ground where he sat sloped decidedly from the 
roots of the tree, so that the wall was considerably 
above him, and he could see nothing. “ Ah ! ” he 
thought, “here are two of my country cousins, 
an ‘Auntie ’ and her niece, it seems, out for a ram- 
ble amid their native buttercups. Far be it from 
me, however” — the voice of Miss Jemima at 
this moment was heard again — “to sit here and 
listen to a conversation not intended for my ears.” 


26 THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 

He rose to his feet. “ I am glad to have met you, 
ladies,” — he turned and made his invisible com- 
panions a half-bow — “but really I must be going.” 
And he softly moved away. 

He had gone not half a dozen steps, however, 
when suddenly the sound of the voices grew more 
open and distinct. He glanced back and caught 
sight of a hat or bonnet above the wall. They 
had risen and — yes, they were actually about to 
get over the wall into the cornfield. It was 
Jemima’s own sweet tones that told him so. 
“Here, Auntie,” she said, “here’s a first-rate 
place to climb over.” 

Tristram made himself a face. Another mo- 
ment, of course, would discover to the strangers 
his own vicinity. He cared little, however, who 
his “ country cousins ” were or what they might 
think ; and his impulse now was to continue his 
way, paying no more attention to them. But then 
by chance his eye fell again on the scarecrow 
close by, and instantly a new purpose seized him 
— a purpose suggested, no doubt, by the train of 
thought he had fallen into a little while before, 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 


2 7 


but one which he would hardly have entertained 
seriously had he taken a moment to consider it. 
Quick as thought he sprang to the side of the 
scarecrow, pulled his big hat over his face, thrust 
his fishing-rod (done up in a bundle) into the 
ground before him, shifted his fish-basket (which 
was slung beneath his coat to protect it from the 
sun) around upon his back so that it made a ver- 
itable hump, and then, bending over, there he 
stood, perfectly motionless, an old man leaning 
on his cane — as complete a specimen of cornfield 
scarecrow as one would wish to see. Just what 
his object was in striking this absurd attitude he 
could not himself precisely have told. He had 
been seized with an impulse and had obeyed it — 
“just for the fun of the thing.” From the corner 
of his uncovered eye he looked out at the real 
scarecrow beside him and laughed aloud. “ How 
are you, brother,” he said. “ I fancy they’ll find 
it hard work to tell us apart.” 

All this of course had taken but an instant. 
Then, listening intently, but not daring now even 
to take a peep in the direction of the two strangers, 


28 THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 

he heard them slowly clamber over the wall and 
halt a moment in the wheel-track, talking together 
all the while. 

“Yes,” the voice of Jemima was heard to say, 
“ here we are, all right. This leads straight out 
to the road. I can see Tommy’s head, this minute.” 

At these words the pretended scarecrow pricked 
up its ears. Who in the world was “Tommy”? 

There was a sound of retreating footsteps. 
Tristram felt a pang of disappointment. Were 
they going off without even perceiving that he was 
there? He was half inclined to cough, in order 
to call their attention. But, in the same instant, 
an exclamation from Miss Jemima told him that 
nothing of the sort would be necessary. 

“O, Auntie, look!” she cried. “See those 
scarecrows. Ar’n’t they funny ? I never saw two 
together before, did you ? ” 

Then, of course, Tristram knew that his time 
had come. The eyes of the assembled multitude 
were upon him. He braced himself and stood 
rigid as a grenadier in a parlor tableau, all the 
while laughing inwardly. This was quite a joke. 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 


The “ Auntie ” however seemed to regard him 
rather absently. “ Why, yes,” she answered slowly, 
“ we often see two, do we not ? How sweet these 
lilies are.” — She must have had some flowers in 
her hand. 

% “But, Auntie,” persisted Jemima, “do look! 
did you ever see anything so natural as that old 
man? They have actually given him a hand — 
and fingers. Look!” 

There was a moment’s silence. Tristram, mean- 
while, looked too, out along his extended arm to 
the hand that held the cane, and felt instantly the 
force of Miss Jemima’s remark. His hand, where 
it grasped the fishing-rod, was quite bare and ex- 
posed (a fact entirely overlooked by him when he 
had taken up his position) and, examined closely 
from the point where the others stood, could hardly 
fail to be recognized as the appendage of a human 
body. He softly whistled to himself as he per- 
ceived the fact, and felt the silence grow ominous. 
Then suddenly realizing that concealment was no 
longer possible, he slowly turned his head, without 
moving his body at all, and looked at his com- 


30 THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 

panions. The face that was thus unexpectedly 
presented to their gaze, save that it was plainly a 
living one, might well have been taken for a part 
of the make-up of the supposed scarecrow, so 
funny did it look with its burned, freckled skin, 
its eyeglasses upon its nose, and the irresistibly 
comical expression that spread over all its homely 
features. If a scarecrow could come to life, this 
was exactly the way one might expect him to look. 

The expression on our hero’s face quickly 
changed to one of unmixed astonishment, how- 
ever, as he now for the first time actually saw his 
companions and discovered what they were really 
like. He saw two girls, one a young lady of very 
nearly his own age, one a child, a slender, sprite- 
like little personage of nine or ten. Country 
cousins, indeed ! These two were, at a glance, 
young people of unmistakable style and consid- 
eration, as genteel and sophisticated in dress and 
air as any he had ever seen coming down College 
Hill or going into the Athenaeum. The younger 
did not just now engage his particular attention. 
She wore a white Tam O’Shanter cap and was 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 3 1 

clad, otherwise, in the ordinary morning costume 
of a city child in the country. But by the older 
he was decidedly impressed. She was a strikingly 
handsome young lady, dark rather than light, with 
a face full of life and a pair of the brightest black 
eyes Tristram had ever seen. Her dress, he saw, 
was modish and becoming; though he was too 
much of a boy to take in its details, save that he 
distinctly appreciated a jaunty little hat, whose 
scarlet ribbons, tied beneath her chin, served to 
intensify the fiery expression with which she re- 
garded him. For fiery (and nothing less) that 
expression certainly was. Her face seemed actu- 
ally aflame as she stood there with burning cheeks 
and flashing eyes, fixing upon our mortified hero 
a look of hot, wrathful, consuming indignation. 
This young lady, clearly, was not one bit frightened 
or dismayed by this unlooked-for coming to life of 
a scarecrow in a cornfield. Nor was she, either, 
at all amused by it. She was simply and une- 
quivocally angry. Tristram felt very uncomfort- 
able indeed as he met her scorching glance, and 
heartily wished he had been more thoughtful.. He 


3 2 THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 

was by no means a diffident or awkward youth, 
however, and he quickly resolved to put the best 
face possible upon the affair. Straightening up, 
therefore, and pulling off his hat and eyeglasses, 
he made her his best bow. 

“ I humbly beg your pardon,” said he, in that 
grave yet half humorous way of his that often left 
people in doubt whether he was serious or jesting. 
“ The fact is, I — well, I do assure you that until 
this moment I did not see you at all.” 

These words, even to one aware that they were 
true enough in point of actual fact, might well 
have seemed a feeble apology, though the best 
that poor Tristram (who really had nothing at all 
to say for himself) could at the moment frame ; 
but to the person addressed they sounded like 
absolute untruth. Of course he had known that 
they were there, and it was for their benefit that 
this farce had been enacted. The young lady 
cared very little, however, for that matter, what he 
had to say for himself. She wished to resent the 
liberty he had taken, not to pardon it. She did 
not honor his speech, therefore, with any answer 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 


33 


whatever. She simply drew herself up a little 
taller and regarded him still more wrathfully for a 
single moment. Then she turned abruptly from 
him, and (with a low word to her companion, who 
instantly joined her, she walked rapidly away in 
the direction of the road. 

Tristram stood and looked after, utterly cha- 
grined and astounded at this sudden turn of affairs. 
What kind of a way was this to treat anybody! 
Of course it was ridiculous — what he had done! 
but after all there was no great harm in it; he had 
only meant it for a joke. But the young lady, it 
seemed, did not look at it in that light. Whew ! 
What a look that was she had given him ! He 
took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. 
“ I feel as though I’d been under a sun-glass,” he 
declared. “ It’s a wonder I didn’t just shrivel up 
and turn to cinder on the spot.” Then, as he 
thought of it, the utter absurdity of the whole thing 
came over him afresh, and he burst out laughing. 
The girls heard him, and the little one looked 
fiercely back as if to resent an added insult. Tris- 
tram started forward, resolved to overtake them 


34 THE adventures of a scarecrow. 

and renew his apologies ; but he presently slack- 
ened his pace, shaking his head and acknowledging 
to himself that it would do no good. The look 
with which his former attempt at explanation had 
been received was still vividly present to him. He 
continued his way, however, for the purpose of 
meeting Johnnie who could now be seen coming 
along the road from the house. 

But the mishappenings of the morning were not 
yet over. Tristram, still keeping an interested 
eye upon the two girls, saw them, a minute later, 
pass out through the bar-way and turn down the 
road toward the pony and village cart. That 
unique establishment, then, belonged to them. 
He remembered the allusion to “ Tommy,” and 
wondered at himself that he had not connected 
them with it before. The girls unfastened the 
pony, Tristram and Johnnie, at the precise moment 
of their doing so, being each some half-dozen rods 
away, one in the field, the other in the road. All 
at once Johnnie was heard shouting to Rom ; and 
the next moment Tristram saw the dog dash past 
the bar- way in the direction of the girls. He 


THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 35 

thought nothing of this, however — Rom was not 
likely to harm anybody — until, a moment later 
still, looking across the bit of field and through 
the rail fence that now separated him from the 
heroines of his late adventure, he became witness 
of a scene that filled him first with wonderment 
and then with honest wrath. Rom, urged no 
doubt by a puppy-like disposition (of which his 
master had never yet been able to break him) to 
make acquaintance with strangers at all times and 
places, was running directly toward the girls. The 
latter, observing his approach, seemed suddenly, 
for some reason, to be vastly excited by it. The 
little girl, who had already climbed into the cart, 
stood up and clapped her hands together, while 
the young lady, throwing across the dasher the 
reins she had just taken from the pony’s back, 
turned and walked a step or two to meet the dog. 
Rom ran straight to her, and the next instant was 
taken full into her arms, where for a moment he 
was seen to be closely held while caresses and 
endearments were lavished upon him without stint. 

This, of itself, although hardly to have been 


36 THE ADVENTURES OF A SCARECROW. 

looked for, perhaps, was not unaccountable. Rom, 
as has been said, would go to anybody ; and the 
young lady might be extravagantly fond of dogs. 
It was what followed that was the puzzling part of 
the affair. The young lady turned at length and 
walked back to the cart, taking Romulus with her, 
her hand seeming to rest upon his collar. Then 
all at once she was seen to take him bodily in her 
arms and put him into the vehicle, getting in after 
him with a single quick spring herself. Then, once 
more taking the reins, she snapped her long whip, 
the little pony started off at a brisk trot, and lo ! 
the entire equipage, pony, cart, ladies, dog and all, 
swiftly vanished down the road in a dusty cloud 
of its own making; while, whistling, shouting, 
exclaiming — but, alas! in vain — Tristram and 
his friend stood gazingafter, wondering with all 
their wits what so unwarranted a proceeding could 


mean. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 

HAT does this mean, I 
should like to know,” Tris- 
tram sternly demanded of 
Johnnie as the two came 
together at the bar-way. 

“ I’m sure I don’t know,” 
Johnnie answered with entire sincerity. “I had 
just come out of the house, and was walking along 
the road, when Rom caught sight of those girls, 
and off he went. And then, the first thing I knew, 
they had him in the cart and were driving off. 
Who are they, anyway ? ” 

“ How do I know ? I wasn’t born and brought 
up here.” Tristram was thoroughly angry at 
what had occurred, and was disposed to visit his 
wrath upon Johnnie as the only available object. 
37 



38 THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 

“They didn’t look as though they were born 
and brought up here, either,” observed Johnnie. 
“Do you suppose they did it in joke?” Johnnie’s 
experience of girls was not extensive ; but so far 
as it went it quite warranted this question. 

“Joke?” cried Tristram. “I don’t see the 
joke.” And then, gloomily looking down the road 
after the vanished village cart, he wondered if it 
could be a joke, a piece of extemporized revenge 
on the part of the young lady for the trick he had 
played in the cornfield. There had been nothing 
in her manner (during the short time he had had 
to observe it) to indicate that she was given to 
joking; but what else could this be but a joke? 
She could hardly mean to steal his dog. He said 
nothing of this to Johnnie, however. He was in 
no mood to relate the scarecrow episode. “This 
wouldn’t have happened if you had come along,” 
he accused him, instead. “ What kept you so 
long, anyway ? ” 

“Well,” answered Johnnie frankly, “the wo- 
man had a custard pudding she’d just taken out 
of the oven. And I bought it of her. And then 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


39 


she wouldn’t let me have the dish, so I had to eat 
it there. And it was pretty hot, you know — ” 

“I’ll warrant you!” Tristram exclaimed angrily. 
But then Johnnie looked so innocent, and the 
thing was so ridiculous, that he could not help 
laughing. “ At any rate,” he declared, with a 
threatening nod, “ they’d better bring back my 
dog. If he doesn’t put in an appearance before 
night, we’ll go and hunt him up.” 

And with this resolve in mind, as they walked 
back to their boat still discussing the matter, Tris- 
tram quite recovered his humor again. The pros- 
pect of a further acquaintance with the young 
lady (notwithstanding what had passed) was by no 
means disagreeable to him. 

At the camp they found Sinker Hothckiss. 
Sinker Hotchkiss was an old friend of, now, nearly 
twenty-four hours’ standing. The afternoon be- 
fore, just after the late dinner that followed their 
arrival, the two boys had been talking together, 
Tristram sitting in the boat and Johnnie lying on 
the bank near by, when the former felt a sudden 
grasp on his collar. Twisting his head around, a 


40 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


somewhat distorted view of his captor revealed to 
him a tall, wiry, ill-dressed and rather ill-condi- 
tioned individual who fiercely returned his glance 
out of a pair of fishy green eyes. 

“ Whose boat is this you’re bailin’ the water out 
on ? ” the stranger demanded. 

“ My friend,” Tristram coolly replied, without 
moving (as indeed he could not, at that moment), 
“it seems to me you are rather familiar on short ac- 
quaintance. Take your hand off my collar please ; 
this is what I call a case of unlawful seizure ” — 

“Who told you you might hev this boat?” 
shouted the other, tightening his grasp. 

“ — A case of unlawful seizure,” Tristram im- 
perturbably continued, though he was now nearly 
choked. “ And unless you release me instantly, 
I shall write to the Secretary of the State.” 

This threat so far made its impression upon the 
other as to cause him to relax his hold, where- 
upon Tristram, by a sudden jerk, freed himself 
altogether and confronted him. 

“ I want ye t’ understand that this boat b’longs 
to me,” the stranger now informed him. 



SINKER HOTCHKISS APPEARS IN CAMP 






































































































THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


43 


“Indeed?” said Tristram. “I had already in- 
ferred as much from some things you let drop.” 

The other looked at him a moment with his 
filmy eyes, slowly setting him down as a queer 
customer. 

“ Who be ye, anyway ? ” he asked in more rea- 
sonable tones. 

“ Ah ! You should have asked that question in 
the first place, my friend,” said Tristram. “This 
way you have of stepping up to a man and twist- 
ing his collar until he can’t see out of his eyes 
isn’t just the thing, you know, without an introduc- 
tion. However, as you didn’t know any better, 
I forgive you. Permit me to introduce myself. 
My name is Thoreau. Perhaps you have heard 
of me. This gentleman here is my friend, Mr. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson. We are in the philoso- 
phy business, and have come out here in search of 
Lusi Natures. We are glad to have met you.” 

“Wall,” returned the other, not seeing the 
point of all this (such point as there was) but 
quite determined as to his own point, “ you don’t 
want to use my boat.” 


44 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


“Excuse me, Mr. . You did not mention 

your name ?” 

“ My name is Hotchkiss — Sinker Hotchkiss.” 

“ Excuse me, Mr. Hotchkiss, but that is just 
what we do want to do — use your boat. We 
want to use it for a week or two. What can we 
have it for, by the week ? ” 

And Mr. Hotchkiss, whose business it was to 
make money out of strangers, finding the exorbi- 
tant price he named not demurred at, and being a 
not ill-natured fellow at bottom, modified now to 
some extent the harshness of his manner; and 
presently the three found themselves discussing 
the local fisheries question on terms of cordial 
intimacy. 

Of Sinker Hotchkiss therefore, finding him at 
the boat-house on their return from across the 
pond, the two boys made inquiry as to the yellow 
pony and village cart. Sinker recognized the 
equipage at once. “ Why,” said he, “ that b’longs 
to Commydore Challis, the same one ’t owns this 
boat-house.” 

And then, being questioned further, he went on 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


45 


with his information. Commodore Challis was an 
old sailor, a retired naval officer, who lived up at 
the village. That is, he lived there summers ; the 
family spent their winters in Washington. The 
family consisted (since his wife died, two years 
before) of a daughter and a granddaughter — 
with a housekeeper and several servants. The 
daughter was quite a young lady now, a mighty 
handsome girl, with eyes black as coal. She 
didn’t always drive that yellow pony; she some- 
times rode — horseback — a horse four times as 
big and that went like a locomotive. They live 
just down the main street of the village, a short 
distance from the Common, in a Green Ann house. 
You’d be sure to know it ; ’twas the stylishest 
house in town. The Challises were rich as all 
Boston. 

All this, certainly, sounded very attractive. 
Tristram declared himself quite satisfied with the 
account. “They seem to be a perfectly respect- 
able family,” he said to Johnnie. “I see ‘no 
reason why we should not go and make their 
acquaintance. Indeed, I think we’ll go directly 


46 THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 

after dinner. Rom may come back before we get 
a chance to hunt him up.” 

About half-past three, therefore, duly arrayed 
in clothes of fashionable cut, and hats with very 
large crowns, and collars of awful height (taking 
themselves very seriously, now, after the manner 
of city youths in the country), the two lads turned 
their steps toward the village to look up their 
lost dog. The plan was to go to the house, ask to 
see the young lady, and then, of her, inquire for 
the dog. If Miss Challis were not at home, they 
would wait and go again. It was she, after all, 
whom they had chiefly in mind — or whom Tris- 
tram had chiefly in mind — in making the call. 
The more he thought of Rom’s abduction, the 
more he felt that it must be a jest on the part of 
the young lady; and he found himself, in that 
view, rather rejoicing at the affair, since it gave 
him an excuse for seeking her out, apologizing 
more satisfactorily for his awkwardness of the 
mortiing, and (no doubt) laying the foundations 
of a very delightful acquaintance. 

Crossing the village green — a pretty, open 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


47 


space irregularly planted with elm trees, with a 
band-stand in its centre and the various public 
buildings of the place, the two churches, the two 
rival grocery stores, the post-office, schoolhouse 
and brick bank, picturesquely arranged about its 
circumference — a short walk down a broad, shady 
street brought them opposite to the house which 
Sinker Hotchkiss had described. They looked 
across at it with a deepened sense of the wealth 
and importance of the people they were going to 
see. The grounds were spacious, and beautifully 
furnished and kept ; the house itself (there was 
nothing “Queen Anne” about it except that its 
architecture was of the ornamental order) was an 
elegant specimen of modern country residence, 
its lower story of stone surrounded by piazzas and 
grown over with vines and shrubs, its. upper por- 
tion, of wood, built up into all sorts of quaint 
balconies and windows and turrets, and half hid- 
den among the branches of trees — the whole 
structure appearing to our two young gentlemen 
(though they were accustomed to fine houses) like 
some enchanted palace in a wood. 


48 THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 

“ It’s a mighty swell place, isn’t it?” Johnnie 
remarked, with some appearance of awe. 

“Yes,” laughed Tristram. “You wouldn’t think 
that people who lived in a house like that would 
steal a dog.” 

“I don’t believe I’ll go in with you,” said John- 
nie. “I’ll wait here.” Johnnie, all along, had 
taken a more tragic view of the adventure than 
Tristram was disposed to allow himself. 

“ O, pshaw ! Come along.” 

“ No ; I’ll wait here.” 

So Tristram entered the gate and walked up 
the broad driveway alone. He was struck more 
than ever, now, with the beauties of the place. 
The lawn was perfect ; curious foreign trees and 
rare plants were scattered all about ; there was a 
Chinese pagoda, a miniature fish-pond, a wonder- 
ful grotto of stones ; and the lad noted with spe- 
cial pleasure a tennis court carefully marked off 
with a lawn mower upon the grass. “So she 
plays tennis, does she ? ” he murmured to himself. 
“ Strangely enough, so do I. We’ll have some 
games together.” 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


49 


Going up the steps of a broad piazza hung with 
awnings, he suddenly found himself face to face 
with a human being, a stranger, of course, yet one 
who he at once recognized as the proprietor of 
the place. This was a distinguished-looking old 
gentleman with a ruddy face and white “mutton- 
chop ” whiskers, whose portly figure, clad in a 
military coat, was extended upon a wicker chair 
made somewhat after the manner of a steamer- 
chair, and with a huge hood, like a chaise-top, 
erected over its main part. He had upon his 
head a queer little skull cap. He did not move, 
but seemed to glare at the newcomer from be- 
neath his bushy eyebrows with an air of hostile 
inquiry. But Tristram, stepping nearer to address 
him, perceived all at once that, though his eyes 
were not closed, he was fast asleep. Indeed 
there was not wanting also, as he stood above 
him, auricular demonstration of the fact. “ Ah,” 
thought he, “the Commodore, no doubt — on 
the retired list. I’m sure I’ve no wish to disturb 
his slumbers. I don’t believe in waking people 
up.” And he turned softly toward the door. 


56 THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 

A servant appeared presently in answer to his 
cautious pull of the bell, a stout, wholesome-look- 
ing Irish girl, who, with her hand upon the latch, 
defensively eyed him through the screen door. 

“ Well, what is it that’s wanted ? ” she asked 
him in tones that seemed to him at the moment 
preternaturally loud. 

Tristram raised his hand imploringly. “ My 
good woman,” said he, “ pray modulate your voice 
a little. You’ll wake this gentleman from his nap.” 

“Wake him, is it?” cried the girl. “Well, then, 
there’s no fear of that. It’s much as we can do 
to make him hear when he’s broad awake already.” 

“O,” said Tristram, with a relieved glance at 
the sleeper. “ He’s deaf, is he ?” 

“ Indeed he is, then. One of his own cannons 
wouldn’t wake him.” 

“Is Miss Challis at home ? ” inquired Tristram. 

“ Maybe she is and maybe she isn’t,” was the 
non-committing answer. “Are you the N-sickle- 
pedy man ? ” 

“The w^Z-man ? ” asked Tristram puzzled. 

“ The N-sickle-pedy man — the man to sell the 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


5 1 


books. Because if ye are, Miss Helen told me to 
say she didn’t want nothing at all of ye.” 

“O,” laughed Tristram, comprehending. “ No, 
I am not the encyclopaedia man. I wish to see 
Miss Challis. Be so good as to give her this card.” 

The girl opened the door now, and taking the 
card carefully studied it for a moment. Then, 
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing with suspi- 
cious finger, to the address in the corner. “ Is that 
where ye make the books ? ” 

“ My good woman,” said Tristram, with undi- 
minished suavity, “ permit me once more to correct 
the painful misconception under which you seem to 
labor. I don’t make books; I don’t sell books; 
I only, occasionally, buy them and read them.” 

“At any rate,” said the girl, with a touch of 
good-humored irony, “ ye talk like a book. Well, 
I’ll give her the card and tell her the book-man is 
waiting.” 

“ Tell her anything you please,” answered Tris- 
tram resignedly. “ Only give it to her. Or — let 
me have it one moment.” He took the card 
again and added, in pencil, the word “ Providence ” 


52 


THE PURSUIT OF A YELLOW PONY. 


to the address. Whatever the girl might tell her, 
the card, thus amended, could hardly fail to im- 
press Miss Challis with a proper sense of his im- 
portance. Providence, as every one knew, was a 
wealthy and aristocratic city; and Hope street (if 
she knew anything of its localities) was one of 
the best streets to live on. “There,” he said, 
“give that to Miss Challis.” 

Then, since he was now permitted, he stepped 
inside and sat down upon the hall settee, while 
the girl went up stairs. The hall was a comfort- 
able apartment with hard wood floor, amply fur- 
nished, with a fireplace and andirons to one side, 
and just within the fender — rather a novel orna- 
ment — a small yacht’s cannon looking ready to 
go off at any moment. On the wall hung a large 
portrait of a naval officer in full uniform, with a 
sword across his knees — presumably that of the 
slumberer outside in his more heroic days. On 
the table under this portrait Tristram noted with 
interest a lady’s tennis racket in its embroidered 
case. “Ah,” he murmured, “we’ll get to the 
subject of tennis as soon as possible.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 

HE young lady, it would seem, was not so 



X impressed by the information to be derived 
from Tristram’s card as to mind keeping him wait- 
ing. It was fully ten minutes by the hall clock 
before she came down. She was dressed to go out, 
and seemed hardly to be thinking of him at all as 
she paused at the foot of the stair. Tristram rose 
to meet her. His eyeglasses (which might other- 
wise have identified him) were in his hand as he 
made his bow and, in his changed dress, he saw 
that she did not recognize him. She held his card 
in her hand and her glance passed from it to him 
with an air of the slightest possible interest. He 
felt that she still connected him in some way with 
the book business. 

“ I trust you will excuse this intrusion, Miss 


53 


54 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


Challis,” he began. He knew that it sounded 
presuming, at the outset, thus to call her by name ; 
but it seemed necessary to call her something, and 
plain “ Miss ” would not have done at all. “ I 
called upon an errand — that is, upon a little 
matter of — business” — Then he stopped short. 
Somehow or other it was hard for him to do him- 
self justice in the presence of this young lady. 

Miss Challis’s dark eyes rested upon him coldly. 
“Business?” said she, and again glanced at his 
card. 

Tristram bit his lip. “I think you misunder- 
stand,” he said. “ My business has nothing to do 
with books. I came to say to you — to ask you ” 
— he stumbled again. Then, quite out of pa- 
tience with himself, he went bluntly to the point. 
“The fact is, Miss Challis, I owe you an apology.” 

“An apology?” The black eyebrows arched 
themselves slightly. “ I think not. You wish to 
see me ? ” 

“Yes; I am Mr. Tuckerman of Providence.” 

“ Yes ? ” The announcement of his name and 
place of residence seemed not to produce quite 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


55 


its due effect upon her even when made by Mr. 
Tuckerman of Providence himself. She did, how- 
ever, now ask him to be seated, motioning toward 
the settee. 

“Thank you,” said Tristram. “Won’t you sit 
down yourself ? ” And he drew forward a chair. 
But as she took no notice, he also remained stand- 
ing. She should see that he understood good 
manners. 

“Yes,” he went on, “I am out here camping 
with a friend. We were out fishing this morning, 
over the other side of the pond ; and I was com- 
ing across a cornfield, near the road ” — 

“ Ah ! ” interrupted the young lady, and re- 
garded him with sudden attention. “Then you 
were the — person — whom we saw in the corn- 
field.” She spoke the words slowly, as though 
she were gradually realizing, as she uttered them, 
the fact which they expressed. Then, all in an 
instant, she drew herself up, as cold and stately 
as an iceberg. Tristram felt a chill creep over 
him. This promised to be as bad, in its way, as 
the scorching he had received in the morning. 


56 AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 

He went on, however. “Yes, I am that person. 
And I wanted to say to you that I did it out of 
pure thoughtlessness ; and that I — I — Well, I 
just made a goose of myself.” He laughed 
ruefully. 

The young lady stiffly inclined her head, perhaps 
by way of assent to this statement. 

“And I wish to apologize,” said Tristram. 

“ I do not see why you should apologize to me 
for — those were your words, I believe — ‘making 
a goose of yourself’,” observed Miss Challis 
freezingly. 

“ But you’ll forgive me ? ” 

“Certainly — if you can forgive yourself.” Her 
manner, however, was to the last degree unforgiv- 
ing. 

“ I know it had a bad look; but I assure you” — 

“ It is not of the slightest consequence.” 

“But you accept my apology?” Tristram felt 
that he was eating a good deal of humble pie; but 
he was really very anxious to set himself right 
with her. 

“Certainly. I accept your apology. Is that 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


57 


all ? ” She drew back a little and seemed to wait 
for him to go. 

But Tristram did not go. He declined to be 
frozen out in this manner. He had come there, 
with the best intentions in the world, and apolo- 
gized like a gentleman; and it was not fair to 
treat him like this. He felt his blood begin to 
boil in spite of the chilliness of the atmosphere. 

“ No,” said he, “ that is not all. I fear I must 
detain you a moment longer.” He spoke very 
politely, but he had suddenly quite discarded his 
tone of apology. “ There is something else. I 
came to ask you, also, to return to me my dog, if 
you are done with him.” He had no difficulty 
now in coming to the point. Personating a scare- 
crow was not so heinous a crime as stealing a dog, 
after all. 

Miss Challis looked at him haughtily. “Your 
dog ? ” said she, “ I don’t understand you.” 

“ I mean,” said Tristram, “ the dog you met in 
the road this morning, and took into your village 
cart. As he hasn’t come back, I presume he is 
still in your possession.” 


58 AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 

Miss Challis’s eyes rested upon him, at these 
words, with a slight look of surprise. “ So it was 
you the dog was with ? ” she murmured, as much 
to herself as to her caller. Evidently, until this 
moment, she had not connected him with the dog. 
“ Still in my possession ? ” she repeated. “ Of 
course he is still in my possession ! And I mean 
that he shall remain there.” 

“Mean that he shall remain there! — in your 
possession!” Tristram was aware that it was not 
good manners to take the words out of people’s 
mouths ; but for that matter the young lady her- 
self had just been guilty of the same offence. He 
smiled grimly. “I’m very much obliged to you; 
but as he and I are rather fond of each other 
I think, with your permission, I’ll keep him in my 
own possession.” 

“I don’t know just what it is you are trying to 
make out,” she said, “ or just what you wish me to 
believe. I simply know that the dog I met in the 
road this morning was my own dog. He was 
stolen from me, last April, just after we came 
back here. I don’t know how you came by him. 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


59 


If you bought him of anybody ” — Miss Challis, 
clearly, had her doubts as to this, though she did 
not say so — “ then you have been imposed upon.” 

Tristram listened to this speech with amaze- 
ment. Had the girl taken a fancy to Rom and, 
having gotten him into her possession, did she 
mean to keep him, in spite of anything that he 
(Tristram) could say or do, under pretense of 
having lost him ? Or had she really lost a dog 
— one something like Rom — and believed now 
that she had found him again ? This last seemed 
hardly possible; and yet as he looked at her, 
Tristram felt that it must be so. This young lady 
was not joking; she was not pretending; she hon- 
estly believed that Rom was her own dog, and 
(very likely) that it was Tristram himself who 
had stolen him from her. It was a curious mis- 
take to make ; but she had made it. 

Tristram laughed pleasantly. “ O,” said he, “I 
see how it is. You’re mistaken in the dog.” 

“ Mistaken in the dog ! How can I be ? ” 
“Why, my dog, probably, looks so much like 
yours that you’ve been deceived by the resem- 


6o 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


blance. These Gordon Setters often look alike. 
They’re all from the same stock, you know, if 
they’re thoroughbred. And not having seen your 
dog for two months or so, when mine came along 
you naturally mistook him for yours.” 

“ Mistook him ! ” exclaimed the young lady 
very scornfully. “ Do you think I don’t know my 
own dog ? And he knew me, instantly ; and was 
overjoyed to see me.” 

“O,” said Tristram indulgently, “he knows 
everybody instantly and is overjoyed to see them.” 

“ Do you mean that he would treat me just like 
other people ? ” Miss Challis was quite indignant. 
“ I am sure that he would not ! ” Then the slight 
warmth into which, for a moment, she had been 
betrayed suddenly died out, and she relapsed into 
her former iciness of manner. “However,” she 
said, “it is of no use discussing the matter. Of 
course, I know my own dog.” 

“ But,” Tristram remonstrated, “ you must ad- 
mit also that / know my own dog ; and, under the 
circumstances, it is only fair to suppose that it is 
you and not I that is mistaken. Unless,” he sud- 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 6 1 

denly added, looking straight at her, “ you assume 
that I am an impostor.” 

Miss Challis coldly returned his glance, as di- 
rectly as it was given, and made no reply. She 
evidently had no intention of disclaiming the 
assumption. 

“ But,” declared Tristram, not a little nettled, 
“ I can easily prove what I say — if you insist on 
my proving it.” 

“I don’t insist on your proving it. I don’t wish 
you to prove it.” 

“ But I’ve had my dog over a year ; and you 
say you only lost yours in April. My friend who 
is with me will tell you the same thing, if you don’t 
believe me.” 

“ I haven’t the least doubt of it.” 

“ Oh ! but — excuse me — this is folly,” said 
Tristram, fairly provoked. “ I could readily prove 
by any number of persons, if I had them here, 
that the dog is mine.” 

“ Yes ? And I can readily prove by any num- 
ber of persons — and I have them here — that the 
dog is mine. We all knew him instantly.” 


62 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


‘Yes,” protested Tristram, “but you are mis- 
taken in the dog. This dog was in my possession 
before you lost yours. I can prove that” 

“ You can’t prove it if it isn’t so,” replied the 
young lady with cogence. 

Tristram groaned in spirit. Where was the use 
in reasoning with such a person as this ? She be- 
lieved the dog was hers and she was determined 
to keep on believing it. Then he bethought him- 
self of another point. 

“Ah! I’ll tell you how I can convince you. I 
have the dog’s license at home — the old one, made 
out a year ago. It has his number in it — One 
Thousand Seven — the same that’s on his collar, 
now. I’ll send for it.” He advanced this argu- 
ment with tranquil confidence ; it was of the na- 
ture of documentary evidence. 

But the young lady met it promptly. “ Thank 
you,” said she, “ but I won’t trouble you. I have 
a license right here in the house that will do just 
as well. It was taken out a year ago just like 
yours, and has his number in it, too — Number 
Twenty-One — the same that was on his collar 


An encounter with an iceberg. 63 

when he was stolen.” She calmly regarded him 
as though she thought her argument, like her 
license, just as good as his own, which perhaps 
it was. Then she added, by way of additional evi- 
dence, “ And his name, Remus — that was on his 
collar, too — he remembered it perfectly well, and 
he comes instantly when I call him by it.* 

“ ‘ Remus ! ’ ” Tristram opened his eyes. “ Was 
your dog’s name Remus ? ” he asked. “ Well, 
that’s a queer coincidence ! It’s no wonder Rom 
answered to it. Romulus and Remus. That’s 
very queer. My dog’s name is Romulus.” 

Miss Challis bowed. “ I don’t see anything 
queer about it,” said she coolly. “ It was a very 
easy thing to do, to change Remus to Romulus. 
Of course the one name suggests the other.” And 
Tristram perceived that she actually regarded the 
similarity of the names as so much further evi- 
dence against him. 

He looked helplessly about him wondering what 
he should say next. It seemed useless to argue 
the matter longer ; every argument he had used 
had only made matters worse. The young lady 


64 AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 

was not open to argument. Evidently she meant 
to keep the dog. But of course Tristram could 
not submit to that. The dog was his and he must 
have him ; indeed, he did not mean to go away 
without him. And yet, how was he to get him. 
He did not even know where he was at that mo- 
ment, and he could hardly go through the house 
searching for him. If he could only persuade the 
young lady to have him in. 

“Miss Challis,” said he, as seriously as though 
Rom were a child whose guardianship was in dis- 
pute between them, “can I see the dog?” 

“ I don’t know what good that can do,” said 
Miss Challis. “ Why do you wish to see him ? ” 

“ Well, I don’t seem able to convince you that 
he is mine ; and of course you can’t convince me 
that he is yours. And why wouldn’t it be a good 
plan to — well, to leave it to the dog?” Tristram 
had not thought of this before, himself ; but it 
struck him, as he proposed it, as being a very 
good plan indeed. 

“ Leave it to the dog ? ” said Miss Challis. 
“What do you mean ? ” 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 65 

“ Why, have him brought in here, and see which 
one of us he will acknowledge as master. What 
do you say to that ? ” 

“ I say that it is the most absurd and unreason- 
able proposition I ever heard of,” returned the 
young lady with emphasis. “The dog hasn’t seen 
me for two months and more, until to-day, while 
you have had him with you all that time. Of 
course he would acknowledge you.” 

Tristram laughed confusedly. This young lady 
was quite as quick at thinking as he was. She 
was not to be imposed upon. 

“ However,” she suddenly continued, somewhat 
to his surprise, seeming to give the matter a sec- 
ond thought, “ I don’t know, after all, that I’ve 
any objection to trying it, just to see what he will 
do.” Her face kindled a little as she considered 
the scheme. “Yes,” she concluded, with decision, 
“ I will ! Wait a moment.” And before he well 
realized her intention, she had swiftly passed him 
and vanished by a door in the rear. 

Tristram sat and waited with somewhat recov- 
ered spirits. It would be something to have the 


66 


AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICEBERG. 


dog in — indeed, it would be everything. Once 
let him get Rom into his hands and he would not 
let him go again, even if he had to take him away 
violently. Violence would be quite justifiable in 
dealing with such a young lady as this, who had 
taken the dog by force, herself, in the first place, 
and who meant to keep him by force if she could, 
and who had treated him (Tristram himself) with 
such coldness and (he considered) discourtesy. 
Why, he had never had such a freezing reception 
in all his life. Talk about Dr. Kane’s Farthest 
North ! He felt as though he had been to the 
Pole itself. The young lady was a regular ice- 
berg. “ The next time I come to see her” said 
Mr. Tuckerman of Providence to himself, “I’ll 
wear my seal gloves and ulster overcoat.” 


CHAPTER V. 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 

ISS CHALLIS was gone 
some minutes — long 
enough, Tristram instant- 
ly realized as she came 
in again, to have pro- 
duced a complete and very agreeable change in 
her manner. It no longer exhibited that extreme 
of Arctic cold which, just now, he had been com- 
pelled to endure ; nor was it characterized, either, 
by the fierce, torrid heat from which he had suf- 
fered in the morning; it was simply temperate, now 
— warm, fresh, exhilarating, delightful. Tristram 
felt the change as he would have felt the change 
from one zone to another. He quickly forgave 
her all her sins past, and reflected (with his eye 
again on the tennis racket) that after all she would 
67 



68 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


be an extremely nice girl to know, if only one 

M 

were on good terms with her. 

She was full now of the proposed scheme. “ I’ve 
arranged it all,” she vivaciously informed him. 
“ Mollie is to bring him to the door; and when I 
tell her, she will open it and let him in. You are 
to sit there, on the settee ; and I will sit over here. 
And then, the one he goes to first, that one is his 
master. Will that do ? ” She confronted him 
brightly. 

Tristram smilingly declared that it would do 
capitally. Almost anything would do, he thought, 
if she would only look at him and talk to him like 
that. He could well nigh have made, her a pres- 
ent of the dog on the spot. 

“ Of course,” she naively observed, “ if he 
should go to you first, it wouldn’t really prove any- 
thing, when he has been with you so long. But 
I don’t believe he will go to you.” 

And even to this Tristram did not demur. He 
felt very sure, for that matter, that Rom would 
come straight to himself, not having seen him 
since morning ; and, at any rate, he did not wish 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


69 


to say anything that might upset the experiment 
or disturb again the young lady’s temper. He 
was quite content with things as they were going. 

There was a knock at the door and, at the 
same time, a vigorous scratching at the threshold. 
“ Sit down, quick ! ” Miss Challis eagerly com- 
manded him ; and as she now sat down herself he 
had no hesitation in complying. “ Mind, now, 
not a word or sign to influence him,” she warned 
him with her finger. Then she raised her voice 
to Mollie. “ Now, Mollie, let him in.” The next 
instant the door opened and Rom appeared. 

The two contestants in this novel combat sat 
exactly opposite to each other, one on either side 
the hall, so far apart that the dog must perforce 
choose between them. To whom would he go? 
There was perfect stillness in the hall while for 
one short second of time he seemed to poise him- 
self, realizing perhaps the presence of both. Then 
he sprang eagerly forward and, without a particle 
of swerving or hesitation, exactly as though there 
had been but one person there, he went straight 
to — the young lady. He threw himself headlong 


7 o 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


upon her lap and began licking her hands and 
exhibiting every possible evidence of love and 
affection, while on the settee opposite, his lawful 
master, he who had tended him and petted him 
and sacrificed for him all his life long, sat cha- 
grined and disgusted, quite left out in the cold. 

Miss Challis took the dog’s muzzle in both her 
hands and fondly kissed it. Then raising her 
head and looking over at our hero, she suddenly 
burst out laughing — laughter hearty, unre- 
strained, ungenerous perhaps ; but such gleeful, 
musical, entirely ladylike laughter that, even in 
this moment of his sore discomfiture, Tristram 
felt it to be delightful to hear. He could but 
look back at her and laugh too. 

“ Well, sir,” she cried, “ what do you think now 
about your dog ? ” 

“I think,” was the exasperated answer, “that 
he’s an ungrateful whelp. Romulus, come here ! ” 

“ Remus,” said the young lady, “ stay where 
you are.” 

Rom looked around at Tristram and wagged 
his tail. But he stayed where he was. 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


7 1 


“ Ha, ha, ha,” laughed Miss Challis. “ You see 
he has chosen between us. I’m very sorry for 
you ; but I’m very glad to get him back.” 

“ I don’t know what’s got into him,” declared 
Tristram, a good deal provoked. “ I acknowledge 
your superior attractions, of course ; but I didn’t 
suppose he would treat me like this.” He cast a 
reproachful glance at the dog ; and at the same 
moment he caught sight of a small object — a bit 
of cracker — lying on the floor. He started up. 
“ O, I say, but I do know — what’s got into him. 
I should like to know, Miss Challis, if you call 
that fair ? ” He looked injured and indignant. 

“ Call what fair ? What do you mean ? ” asked 
the young lady, getting up also. Her tone and 
manner was that of artless innocence ; but alas ! 
the color in her cheek was, unquestionably, the 
flush of conscious guilt. 

“ That! ” Tristram pointed with accusing finger 
to where, right at her feet, lay the piece of cracker. 
Rom at that instant discovered it too and quickly 
removed it from sight. But it had told its tale. 
The dpg’s decision had been made sure of before- 


72 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


hand. Miss Challis had given him a bit of Buf- 
falo biscuit (of which dainty he was greedily fond) 
while she was out of the room ; and the instant 
he was admitted he had gone straight to her for 
more. Her duplicity stood confessed. 

“ So that is the way you settle the matter, is it ? ” 
cried Tristram, in accents of withering irony. “I 
congratulate you, Miss Challis, upon the conquest 
of my dog’s affections. You are quite sure to re- 
tain them — so long as you have plenty of Buffalo 
biscuit.” 

But Miss Challis did not appear at all withered. 
Nor did she propose, either, it would seem, to be 
scolded for anything she saw fit to do. She drew 
herself haughtily up ; her face turned red as fire ; 
and all at once Tristram saw before him once more 
the young lady of the cornfield. He bit his lip 
and wished that he had shown mercy instead of 
justice. He might have known that he could not 
keep the advantage of her by force. 

“ I am sorry,” she said, “ that you are dissatis- 
fied with the result of the test you yourself pro- 
posed. But I cannot help it. As for the Buffalo 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


73 


biscuit, please understand, sir, that I shall give 
my dog Buffalo biscuit whenever and wherever I 
like, without permission of anybody.” 

Tristram bowed, not finding himself supplied, 
at the moment, with any answer to this. Indeed 
he felt now that there was very little more to be 
said on the subject anyway ; and it occurred to 
him that he had better end the interview forth- 
with, before the young lady herself should 
do so. 

“ Miss Challis,” he said, summoning all his 
sub-Freshman dignity, “it is useless, I see, to 
prolong this conversation. You are determined 
not to listen to reason. If you’ll excuse me, I 
will take my leave. Come, Rom.” He snapped 
his fingers to Romulus. 

“ I will excuse you, sir, with pleasure,” Miss 
Challis replied. “ But you will leave me my dog 
if you please.” 

Tristram compressed his lips. “ Miss Challis,” 
said he, “ I have already told you several times 
that the dog is not yours, but mine. I can easily 
prove the fact, even to your satisfaction, within 


74 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


twenty-four hours. Meanwhile I must take him 
with me.” 

“ Indeed you must not, sir ! ” cried the young 
lady with flashing eyes. 

“ I bid you good day.” Tristram bowed again. 
“ Romulus, here, sir ! ” 

Rom, knowing well the tone in which his mas- 
ter now spoke, came obediently to his side and 
the two moved toward the door. 

“ Stop, sir ! ” commanded the young lady, stamp- 
ing her foot. “ I do not mean you, sir,” she said 
to Tristram as he turned back, “ I mean him. 
Remus, come here ! ” Then, as the dog declined 
to mind, she suddenly raised her voice to the 
pitch of alarm. “ Mollie ! Mollie ! ” 

The door in the rear opened instantly and 
Mollie, who had perhaps been expecting the sum- 
mons, promptly made her reappearance upon the 
scene. 

“ Mollie,” directed her mistress, “ take Remus 
back to the kitchen. Take right hold of his col- 
lar and carry him out.” 

Mollie seemed perfectly to comprehend the situ- 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


75 


ation. She advanced without hesitation and laid 
hold of Rom’s collar. Tristram, with forced calm- 
ness, ordered her to let go again. 

“Let go, is it?” The girl raised her shrill 
voice to such a key as might have insured its be- 
ing heard through the entire village. “An’ sure, 
who are you that takes it upon yerself to give 
orders in this house ? ” 

Tristram winced and drew back. A broil with 
a noisy servant was not at all what he was pre- 
pared for. But then, seeing her actually about to 
drag Rom away, he too laid hold of the dog’s 
collar. It was a desperate moment. For all he 
knew, if he let him go now he might never see 
him again. Then Mollie began pulling vigorously ; 
whereupon our hero (a poor hero he certainly ap- 
peared at this moment) found himself obliged to 
pull too, to maintain his ground ; while the unfor- 
tunate subject of dispute, thus drawn in two direc- 
tions, began to howl most distressingly. The 
scene, however tragic it may have seemed to those 
engaged it, was in truth fast becoming ridic- 
ulous. 


7 6 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


Miss Challis, standing by, angrily clapped her 
hands together. “You ought to be ashamed of 
yourself,” she cried to Tristram. “Let go of the 
dog this instant ! What right have you to come 
here and behave in this way?” 

“I have a right to my dog,” declared Tristram 
breathlessly. 

“ It is not your dog ! Let him go, I say, or I 
will call my father. Mollie, step to the door and 
speak to the Commodore.” 

Tristram at this let go his hold and stood up. 
It was folly, of course, making a scene in this 
way and he now realized it. “ Oh ! if you’re going 
to call in the United States Navy,” said he. 

“ Mollie,” Miss Challis again commanded, “take 
the dog out, at once.” 

And so poor Tristram stood there, very angry, 
but not seeing what he could do to help himself, 
and saw his beloved dog dragged away a prisoner 
out of his sight. 

“This is all perfectly unreasonable and ab- 
surd ! ” he said to Miss Challis. 

“ I quite agree with you, sir,” she answered. 



IT WAS A DESPERATE MOMENT 





























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ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


79 


“I do not see that there is anything left for you 
to do but to go” 

And Tristram, finding himself also able to agree 
in this instance, turned and went out the door, 
painfully aware that he was making a far from 
glorious retreat. 

Miss Jemima (if that was her name ; she did not 
look it) was just driving around from the stable 
in the yellow village cart as he went down the 
steps. Tristram felt it in his bones that she was 
laughing at him as he strode past her ; and was it 
a creation of his excited fancy, or did he really 
hear her calling softly after him, “ Good-by, Mr. 
Scarecrow ? ” 

Johnnie was impatiently waiting for him at the 
gate. “ I hope you’ve been gone long enough,” 
said he. 

To this Tristram vouchsafed no reply. 

“ Where’s Rom ? Haven’t you got him ? ” 

“You don’t see him anywhere about me, do 
you ? ” answered Tristram savagely. 

“ Didn’t they have the dog ? ” asked Johnnie. 

“ Yes ; they had him.” 


8o 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


“ Then where is he ? ” 

“ I left him with them,” said Tristram curtly. 
“ The young lady is going to keep him for me for 
a while.” 

“Oh!” Johnnie studied his comrade’s face. 
“ You don’t seem to have enjoyed your call,” said 
he. 

“ No ; I didn’t. The climate didn’t agree with me. 
It was too changeable ; gave me chills and fever.” 

“ How did you like the girl ? ” 

“ How did I like her ? I don’t think I got as 
far as liking her.” 

“ What did she say ? ” 

“ I don’t think I could repeat all that she said.” 

And these and such as these were the only 
answers Johnnie could get to his questions. 

But of course Tristram told him the whole story 
later. And Johnnie in his clumsy way sought 
to comfort him ; but he would not be comforted. 
He expected to get the dog back again ; certainly 
he expected to get him back ; but he was worried 
about the matter nevertheless, and he went to bed 
feeling thoroughly blue and miserable. 


ROMULUS AUT REMUS? 


8l 


But hours after that, in the dark watches of the 
night, as he lay upon his cot, he suddenly heard 
a light step upon the boat-house floor and then 
something cold touched his cheek. He knew 
what it was instantly. He threw out his arms 
and clasped the dog to his breast. 

“ Rom, old boy, I knew you’d come back ! 
Bless your faithful old heart ! Good fellow ! 
Good fellow ! Let me see the man, woman, young 
lady or servant-girl that will take you from me 
again ! ” 

And all night long, as he slept, his hand clutched 
firmly the dog’s shaggy mane. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 

B REAKFAST was just over, the next morning, 
at the Hotel Thoreau. In good weather the 
boys took their meals out of doors, from a table 
built beneath the trees. They were just clearing 
things away; that is, Tristram was clearing away 
the dishes and Johnnie the fragments of the break- 
fast. It was hard for Johnnie to leave off eating 
so long as there was anything to eat. He was just 
taking from the plate a large segment of apple 
pie that had been left, when Tristram interfered. 

“Lovey,” said he, “ I’ve no objection to your 
eating pie for breakfast, if you will do it. Emer- 
son himself, we are told, eat pie for breakfast. 
But I do object to your eating it just to get rid 
of it. That pie is too good to be wasted, if I do 
say it. Here, if it must be eaten, Rom and I will 
82 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


83 


help you.” He took the pie and cut it into three 
pieces. “There!” said he. “There you have 
it, like Gaul, divided into three parts. ‘ Omnis 
Gallia in tres partes divisa estl ” And taking one 
piece himself, he gave the remaining two, one to 
Johnnie and one to Romulus, each of whom re- 
ceived with eagerness his alloted share. 

Presently a crashing in the bushes was heard as 
of some one approaching; and the boys, looking 
up, caught sight through the leaves of a blue coat 
and panama hat. 

“ Whose coming now, I wonder,” exclaimed 
Johnnie. “ It must be the Chief of Police.” 

“ No,” said Tristram, instantly surmising who 
it was, “it’s Commodore Challis. And he’s come 
for Rom, too, as sure as a shot-gun ! ” 

He hurriedly seized Rom by the collar and 
looked around. His first thought was to take him 
into the boat-house ; but there was hardly time 
for that. Close at hand, spread open to dry in 
the sun, was a good-sized box, fitted with a cover 
and with holes bored in its sides, which was used 
for an ice-chest. Quick as thought he lifted Rom 


8 4 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


off his legs and thrust him into this box, shutting 
down the lid and drawing the leathern hasp over 
its nail. Then he turned calmly to meet the new 
comer. 

The Commodore was just coming into full view. 
He halted in the open space and shook himself 
vigorously, looking down at his white trousers. 

“ It’s a wonder there is anything left of ’em ! ” 
he declared. “ Those abominable brambles ! I 
thought I should never get out.” 

Tristram now advanced to meet him. “ Good- 
morning, sir,” said he in his very politest tones. 
“ I’m afraid you have suffered from the brambles. 
You must have strayed from the path.” 

“ Eh ? ” uttered the old gentleman, looking up 
and scowling. 

Then Tristram remembered that he was deaf, 
and raised his voice accordingly. “You seem to 
have suffered from the brambles,” he repeated. 

“ Suffered ! I should think I had ! I’m so 
scratched and torn and stuck full of thorns, I’m a 
fit subject for the ship’s surgeon.” 

“ I’m very sorry, sir,” said Tristram sympathet- 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


85 


ically. “ Won’t you come and sit down ? ” He 
turned toward where, beneath a big pine-tree, a 
hammock was swung, with some camp-chairs stand- 
ing near. “ We must keep him away from the 
ice-box, Lovey,” he added, sotto voce , to Johnnie, 
who, although he had not spoken a word, was 
solemnly assisting at the reception by his presence. 

“ Humph ! ” The old gentleman grimly looked 
about him, paying no attention whatever to Tris- 
tram’s invitation. “ You seem to be making your- 
selves at home here,” he gruffly observed. “ Per- 
haps you’re not aware that this land and the 
boat-house yonder belong to me.” 

This, certainly, was not very gracious ; but it 
may as well be acknowledged, once for all, that 
the Commodore was an exceedingly irascible, ill- 
tempered old seaman who rarely felt called upon 
to be gracious to anybody. He was old ; he was 
afflicted with gout; and he had met with a dis- 
appointment just at the close of his professional 
career which had greatly soured him. Only a few 
days before the period for his retirement from 
active service (the age of sixty-two) he had been 


86 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


recommended for promotion to the rank of Rear 
Admiral ; but Congress, for some reason, had 
failed to act on the matter within the prescribed 
time and the poor old officer had gone on the re- 
tired list simply as Commodore, an injustice he 
could never forgive or be reconciled to. People 
said he had never spoken a pleasant word since, 
which assertion, although no doubt exaggerated, 
will not be violently contradicted by such of his 
discourse as is found recorded in these pages. 

“Yes,” Tristram said to him now with an air 
of apology. “We understood that it was yours. 
But the boat-house didn’t look as though any- 
body ever used it ; and we liked the place ; and 
we didn’t see any harm ” — 

“ However,” the old gentleman grumbled on, 
still not much minding our hero, “ it doesn’t mat- 
ter. I’m told it’s a habit of yours, appropriating 
other people’s property.” Then, all at once, 
“ What have you done with my daughter’s dog ? ” 
he abruptly demanded. 

This question, although not unexpected on the 
part of the boys, was found by them, naturally 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


87 


enough, a little confusing. Johnnie turned his 
back upon it completely and began kicking dili- 
gently at a bit of stump in the soil ; but Tristram 
felt obliged to face it. 

“ Sir,” said he, willing to gain a moment’s time, 
“ I don’t understand.” 

“ What — have — you — done — with — my — 
daughter’s — dog ? ” shouted the Commodore, 
raising his gold-headed cane and pounding out 
each word with it as if it had been a hammer. 

“Has you daughter lost her dog, sir?” asked 
Tristram, retreating a little. 

“ Lost her dog ! ” thundered the Commodore. 
“ No , sir ! She hasn’t lost her dog. She has had 
her dog stolen. Do you mean to tell me that you 
didn’t know it, sir? Do you mean to say that 
you didn’t come to my house last night, sir — in 
the middle of the night — when we were all asleep 
in our beds — and steal him away ? What, sir ? 
What ? Don’t you dare deny it ! ” Again he 
raised his cane and slowly shook it, like a huge 
index finger, at our hero. “Don’t you dare deny 
it, sir! I will take no denials. Denials won’t 


88 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


go down with me, sir. I am too old a sailor.” He 
glared at the lad as though he were some mu- 
tinous culprit summoned to his quarter-deck, whom 
he meant to hang at the yard arm the next minute. 
He had worked himself, in a very short space of 
time, into a perfect tempest of passion. 

Tristram bent a moment before the blast, but 
quickly recovered himself. He looked around at 
Johnnie who, in serious alarm, was edging away 
to the rear. “ Lovey, you beggar,” said he, 
“don’t desert me. He’ll blow me out of water.” 
Then he addressed himself to the irate old gen- 
tleman. “ Nevertheless, my dear sir,” he pro- 
tested, “ you must permit me to deny what you 
have just said. We did not come to your house 
last night, when you where all in bed, and steal 
away any dog. We were all in bed ourselves, 
sir. As for the dog ” — 

But here, all at once, the storm burst upon him 
again with redoubled fury. 

“ You didn’t, sir ? You didn’t ? ” roared the 
Commodore. “You dare deny it to my face! 
What do you mean, sir ? ” Again the cane quiv- 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


89 


ered in mid-air. “ I tell you I will take no denial, 
/know you, both of you. You can’t impose upon 
me!” 

He paused for breath and there was a mo- 
ment’s lull in the tempest. Tristram, keeping his 
“ weather eye ” upon his visitor did not forbear 
to make his remark to Johnnie. “ The old Jupiter 
Tonans ! ” said he. “ What right has he to come 
thundering around here in this way ? He’ll sour 
all the milk.” It was not quite respectful, it must 
be admitted, thus to talk about a deaf person in 
his very presence ; but the temptation, to a boy 
like Tristram, was irresistible. 

“No, sir!” the old man went on, “you can’t 
impose upon me! It was you, sir — you — that 
came to my house yesterday afternoon, and be- 
haved most outrageously, and tried to take my 
daughter’s dog away by force. You had stolen 
him in the first place, I suppose ; and now you 
have stolen him again. And you’ve got him hid- 
den away here somewhere, I’ve no doubt, this very 
moment. Give him up to me, sir, instantly ; or 
I’ll have you put in irons, both of you. I ex- 


9 ° 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


pect my daughter here with a constable, every 
minute.” 

“My good sir,” Tristram began again, “you 
are entirely mistaken, I do assure you. The 
dog” — But there he was again interrupted. 

“ Mistaken am I ? ” cried the Commodore. 
“ Bah ! I’ll have no more of this.” He shook his 
head like an angry bull. “We’ll see if I’m mis- 
taken.” He started forward, looking sharply to the 
right hand and to the left, moving directly toward 
the breakfast table. The two boys hastened after 
exchanging glances of dismay. The moment of 
discovery seemed certainly to have come. Even 
if the Commodore (who had no scruples, evi- 
dently, about the Right of Search) should fail to 
find the dog for himself, Rom was certain to an- 
nounce the fact of his presence very shortly on 
his own behalf. He could scarcely be expected 
to keep quiet in the box much longer. 

The old gentleman paused, however, close by 
the table, with an air of suddenly relinquishing 
his purpose. “ After all,” said he, in a tone and 
manner that were mild only by comparison with 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 9 1 

those in which he had lately indulged, “ I think 
I’ll wait for Leach and let him make the search. 
He'll find out where you have hidden him precious 
quick. Meanwhile” — the cane reared itself in 
warning — “don’t you dare to stir from this spot, 
either of you. I’ll have none of your tricks.” 

“ We’ve no intention of stirring from the spot 
so long as you yourself remain here,” Tristram 
sincerely assured him. 

“ Very well. I’ll sit down here and wait.” He 
looked about for something to sit on. There was 
nothing at hand of the nature of a chair save the 
bench by the table and the ice-box close by it. 
Johnnie saw the danger and rushing forward be- 
gan pulling frantically at the bench (it was quite 
immovable) as if to offer that. But he was too 
late. The Commodore walked straight to the 
box instead and heavily seated himself upon its 
cover. The instant he did so — Horror of horrors ! 
— the dog (who had, no doubt, by this time found 
his quarters exceedingly uncomfortable) raised his 
voice from within and gave utterance to a pro- 
longed howl. 


92 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


The boys looked at each other, sorely dismayed 
and yet much put to it to keep from laughing, for 
the situation was very funny. “ Bother the beast ! ” 
muttered Tristram. “ He has let the cat out of 
the bag this time, I guess.” 

“ Eh ? What ? What’s that noise ? ” ejaculated 
the old gentleman, looking quickly about him. 
He had heard the sound, but, clearly, had no idea 
what it was or where it came from. “ It sounded 
like a child crying,” said he. 

“ I think it must be the Babes in the Wood,” 
Tristram remarked, very anxious at the moment 
to remark something. 

“ Eh ? ” inquired the visitor. 

“ I think it must be the Babes in the Wood,” 
shouted Tristram. 

“ Humph ! It’s very queer that there should 
be babies in the woods at this hour.” He seemed 
to accept the fact, however. Then his glance fell 
upon the table. “ So you’re just through break- 
fast ? ” he observed, by way of conversation. “You 
appear to be making yourselves comfortable here. 
Everything shipshape and ” — 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


93 


But at that instant, from the box beneath him, 
there issued another howl, longer, louder, more 
dismal and dreadful than the last. The old gen- 
tleman jumped up from his seat. 

“ Bless my soul ! ” he exclaimed. “ What is 
that ? It’s the queerest noise I ever heard ; it 
sounded as though it came from down in the 
bowels of the earth, somewhere.” He looked 
from one of the boys to the other in great wonder. 
Deaf as he was and being in bodily contact with 
the box itself, no doubt the noise had sounded 
strangely to him. 

Johnnie, meeting his glance with some con- 
fusion, felt bound to supply an explanation. “ Per- 
haps it’s an earthquake,”- he suggested feebly. 

“ Eh ? What ? ” asked the Commodore. 

“ My friend thinks that it may be an earth- 
quake,” Tristram answered him, raising his voice 
to a quite unnecessary pitch. Something must be 
done to cover up the sounds from the box. Rom 
was indulging now in a series of low whines ; he 
might break forth into a howl again at any mo- 
ment. “Are earthquakes common in this vicin- 


94 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


ity, sir ? I never witnessed one, myself ; I think 
I should rather enjoy it, even if it were a home- 
made one.” It did not make much difference to 
Tristram what he said so long as he kept saying 
something. “ But I don’t think this can be an 
earthquake, really, sir,” he added, “ we should 
feel the shock.” 

“ Earthquake ? Nonsense ! ” growled the Com- 
modore. “ We don’t have earthquakes in a civi- 
lized country like this.” 

“At any rate,” Tristram hastened to continue 
(for the cries from the box began at that moment 
to multiply and deepen), “ whatever it is, earth- 
quake or no earthquake, it must not be allowed 
to interfere with the duties of the hour. You’ll 
excuse us, sir, I am sure, if we go on with our 
work.” He turned to the table with a sudden 
air of business. “ Here, Lovey ” — this of course 
in an undertone — “take hold and help make a 
noise with these dishes. Shake ’em up, my boy, 
for all their worth. We must drown out the dog 
somehow.” And he began banging the plates 
about in the most reckless manner. 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


95 


“ You see, sir,” he rattled on meanwhile to his 
guest, speaking at his very loudest now in order 
to be heard above his own din, “ housework, as 
the saying is, is never done. Or rather it never 
would be done if we allowed anything to inter- 
fere with it. So you’ll excuse us, as I say, if we 
keep right on. My friend and I, we rather enjoy 
this kind of work, you know. Eh, Lovey ? ” He 
looked over at Johnnie, making a comical half- 
face at him on the side that was farthest from 
the Commodore ; whereupon Johnnie plunged his 
head violently into a huge mixing-pan that he had 
in his hands and from the sounds that issued there- 
from one might have thought he was trying to 
drown himself in it. 

“Yes,” Tristram went on, picking up a hand- 
ful of knives and forks and throwing them into a 
dish-pan, “ dish-washing is one of my special ac- 
complishments. I learned it at a boarding-school 
I went to, down in Connecticut. Washing dishes 
was thoroughly taught there ; in fact it was the 
only thing that was thoroughly taught. It was 
a required study. They kept us at it morning, 


9 6 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


noon and night. I mastered the subject in just 
one week, and graduated from the institution, in 
the middle of the night by a back window. I’ve 
kept up my practice in dish-washing ever since ; 
and, as I say, my friend and I really enjoy it. 
We frequently sing over our work. Would you 
like to hear us sing, sir? By all means. Lovey, 
what shall it be ? A song of the sea would, I 
think, be appropriate under the circumstances. 
What do you say to ‘ Three Times Round ? ’ ” And 
the absurd fellow threw back his head, without 
a particle of hesitation, and at the top of a voice 
not the less suited to his purpose because utterly 
devoid of sweetness and harmony, began to sing 
— a verse of a certain old sea song well known 
to all college students of these days : 

Then up spake the cook of our gallant ship ; 

And a jolly, fat cook was he. 

I care far more for my kettles and my pots 
Than I care for the depths of the sea. 

O, the ocean waves may roll right along, 

And the stormy winds may blow, 

While we poor sailors go skipping through the tops, 

And the land-lubbers lying down below, below, below, 
And the land-lubbers lying down below. 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


97 


He finished the chorus in fine style — Johnnie 
joining in, somewhat ineffectively, at the last — 
and then looked up at the Commodore. “ How 
is that, sir ? ” he gravely inquired. “ Doesn’t that 
take you back to your sea-faring days ? ” 

The Commodore frowned. He had been watch- 
ing the actions of the boys for some time with a 
good deal of suspicion. “It strikes me, young 
gentlemen ” — said he. 

And there he was once more cut short. Rom, 
who during the singing had been perfectly quiet, 
had the instant it seemed certainly to have ceased, 
again seen fit to deliver himself of a howl, this 
time eclipsing all former efforts. 

Tristram was in despair. “ Lovey, Lovey,” he 
exclaimed, “ what in the name of the Nine Muses 
shall we do next? Can’t you cry, or speak a 
piece, or get up on the table and dance, or some- 
thing ? I’m about out of noise, myself. Ah ! I 
have it ! Quick, quick ! Your concertina ! Run 
and get it. It’s our last resort. Mean it ? Of 
course I mean it ! ” This in answer to a wonder- 
ing look from his friend. “ We must make a 


98 A MORNING RECEPTION.' 

racket, somehow. Perhaps we’ll drive the old 
gentleman crazy if we don’t drown out the dog.” 

Then, while Johnnie hurried to the boat-house 
for his beloved concertina (he had put it into his 
trunk in spite of Tristram’s command the day of 
starting, but he had never been allowed to take 
it out until this moment), Tristram again sought 
to occupy the attention of the Commodore. The 
sounds from the box had once more subsided into 
low whining. 

“ My friend Lovering,” said he — always shout- 
ing, of course — “ although not a remarkable per- 
son ordinarily, has one great natural gift. He’s 
a born concertina player. He takes to it as nat- 
urally as you and I would to a hand-organ. He’s 
a greater wonder, in his way, than Blind Tom or 
the Cowboy Pianist. I want you to hear him. 
It’ll be a revelation to you, a musical treat, some- 
thing to remember as long as you live. Ah, 
Lovey, here you are. I’ve been telling the Com- 
modore about your playing. He’s anxious to hear 
you. Sit down there and. give us a verse or two 
of ‘ Home, Sweet Home.’ ” This, as Tristram 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


99 


well knew, was Johnnie’s only tune. “You must 
hear him play ‘ Home, Sweet Home,’ sir. His 
rendering of it is perfectly astonishing. It’ll 
make you homesick, sir.” And he added fer- 
vently in a lower key, “ I only wish it might ! ” 
So Johnnie — entirely sober now, for concertina 
playing was serious business to him — sat down on 
the bench and fitting the instrument to his hands 
began slowly pulling it out and pushing it in, 
laboriously manipulating its keys at the same 
time and producing a series of melancholy sounds 
which, although a good deal disconnected and 
discordant, were still fairly recognizable as mak- 
ing up the tune Tristram had named. The two 
listeners meanwhile stood by, Tristram in an atti- 
tude of profoundest admiration, the Commodore 
with an expression of growing bewilderment. No 
doubt, as Tristram had promised, he found him- 
self vastly astonished by the performance. At 
this moment, too, Romulus (to whom also, pos- 
sibly, the music was a revelation) suddenly as- 
serted himself once more, giving vent, this time, 
in place of a howl, to a series of sharp, penetrat- 


IOO 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


in g yelps quite unmistakable in their character 
even to the Commodore’s obscured sense. The 
old gentleman knew now that a dog — the dog, of 
course — was somewhere close at hand, though 
just where he was still undetermined. He began 
at once to storm and shout, brandishing his cane 
and stamping upon the ground, in a fine fury at 
the deception that had been practiced and the 
treatment he had received. Johnnie at the same 
instant, panic stricken, quite lost his way even 
among the familiar ways of “ Sweet Home ” and 
fell to wildly pulling his concertina in and out, 
producing a far more noisy and terrible discord. 
And Tristram too, still blandly seeking to mend 
matters, added his voice to the tumult. Pande- 
monium for the moment reigned supreme. And 
the scene, to an outside observer, must have 
looked a strange one. 

And observers it had, as it happened, three of 
them, who just at the moment of its climax had 
driven into the open space. These were Miss 
Challis, Jemima, and a third person — Mr. Leach, 
the constable — in a light democrat wagon. Miss 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


IOI 


Challis, who held the reins, drove straight forward 
and drew up her horse right among the excited 
group by the table. Instantly of course the clamor 
ceased. Even Rom grew silent, hearing the sound 
of wheels. 

Tristram was the first to speak. As the reader 
knows, it rarely took him long to find his tongue. 

“ We are having an open air concert,” he 
gravely explained, lifting his hat and addressing 
himself especially to Miss Challis. 

“ Are you indeed ? ” that young lady responded, 
looking down at him not ill-naturedly from her 
seat in the wagon. “ Pray don’t let us interrupt 
the performance.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Tristram, “ we had about got to 
the end of our programme.” He glanced oddly 
at Johnnie who had retreated a few steps into 
the background and who stood now, fearfully ey- 
ing the young lady, with his concertina held, like 
a huge blunderbus, before him. 

The Commodore here came forward. He had 
not got to the end of his programme. 

“ Leach,” said he to the constable, “ look around 


102 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


here, will you, and see where these young rascals 
have hidden that dog ? He’s close by here, some- 
where ; I’ve heard him ; but I’ll be keelhauled if 
I know just where.” 

At this point still another participant in the re- 
cent “concert” showed a disposition to renew the 
performance. From the ice-box a few feet away 
there arose a woful howl. Romulus was as de- 
termined as ever not to be forgotten by the out- 
side world. To everybody present save the Com- 
modore the sound was perfectly distinct and the 
place from which it proceeded evident. 

“ I guess there won’t be no trouble findin’ where 
the dog’s hid,” declared the constable, getting 
down from the wagon. He went at once to the 
box and lifting the lid pulled out Romulus by the 
collar. The dog, frightened and dazed, cowered 
at his feet, seeming not to know what to make of 
things. 

“ Ah, you rascals ! ” shouted the Commodore, 
more angry than ever, shaking his cane again at 
our two heroes. “ You rascals ! You had him 
there all the time and you told me you hadn’t. 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


103 


You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Here, 
Leach, put him right into the wagon.” 

But here Tristram stepped forward, addressing 
the constable who was now dragging poor Rom 
toward the wagon. 

“ Sir,” said he firmly, “ you have no right to 
take that dog. He is mine. These people have 
made a mistake.” 

“ Oh ! I know all about that,” answered the con- 
stable roughly. “You needn’t repeat it. You 
can’t come it over me with that sort of thing, if 
you be from the city. This dog b’longs to the 
Commydore, here. Everybody in town c’n swear 
to it. An’ we’re goin’ to take him, too. I don’t 
s’pose ye’ll resist the Commonwealth o’ Massy- 
choosetts.” 

“ But ” — uttered Tristram. 

“ There ain’t no ‘ buts ’ about it,” the constable 
cut him short. He took the dog and put him into 
the wagon, getting in after him ; the Commodore 
was already in his seat. Tristram remonstrated 
still further, in terms earnest and indignant, but 
to no effect. 


104 


A MORNING RECEPTION. 


“ Very well,” said he at last, so angry that the 
tears stood in his eyes. “ Of course I can’t resist 
the law. You can take the dog by force. But 
it’s a wicked shame, and you shall pay dear for it. 
There’s a law of the land as well as a law of this 
little bit of a country village.” 

And he stood looking wrathfully after them as 
they drove away. 

“We’ll see,” he shouted — though this was 
largely for his own and Johnnie’s benefit, the wagon 
being already out of view — “we’ll see whether 
a man has a right to his own dog or not ! * Com- 

monwealth of Massachusetts!’ I’ll write to the 
Governor of Rhode Island by this afternoon’s 
mail ; and there’ll be a man-o’-war in Boston har- 
bor early to-morrow morning, and blow your old 
brass-covered State House all to pieces ! ” Tris- 
tram could not express himself quite seriously 
even when he was thoroughly in earnest. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 

T was too hot for tennis 
and too dusty for driving. 
Miss Challis and Jemima 
(her name was Jemima, 
as had been her grand- 
mother’s before her; and 
she was a wise, grand- 
motherly little body, her- 
self, when one came to 
know her) were out in the 
Heptagon Room. The Heptagon Room was an 
apartment at one of the back corners of the house 
— seven-sided, as its name implied, and with 
its sides composed chiefly of glass. In winter 
it was used as a conservatory; but in summer 
the windows were removed and, with the aid of 



10 6 THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 

awnings, it was converted into a delightful out-of- 
door morning-room. The two girls, just now, 
spent a great deal of time in the Heptagon Room. 
It was quite secluded and could not be seen at 
all from the street. The house (so at least Miss 
Challis chose to believe) was in a state of siege. 
The young men from the pond had been seen 
repeatedly, hanging about the front gate and 
discharging evil glances (like so much round-shot 
at long range) up the drive-way in the direction 
of the front-door. The Commodore, as often as 
he had seen them, had promptly advanced to the 
piazza’s edge and shaken his stick at them and 
hotly returned their fire with his heaviest guns, 
calling them bloody pirates and sons of sea-cooks. 
Meanwhile their purpose was evident. Having 
stolen Miss Challis’s dog in the first place and 
then having re-stolen him, they now meant to steal 
him a third time. Therefore it was that Miss 
Challis kept herself and her dog in the back- 
ground. Romulus was lying stretched on a rug 
near the two young ladies. He did not look 
entirely happy. He had been well fed and well 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


IQ/ 


treated at the Challis house; his new mistress 
had lavished upon him every tenderness, every 
indulgence; but Rom was not so ungrateful a 
dog, after all, as not to have felt the separation 
(now three days’ long) from his master; and 
moreover the heavy hitching weight to which, like 
a convict with ball and chain, he had been con- 
stantly attached had hardly tended to make him 
more contented. This last indignity had not 
been put upon him without a pang by his loving 
keeper ; but it was felt to be absolutely necessary 
to his safety. 

“ Poor old Remus ! ” Miss Challis tenderly mur- 
mured as she looked up from her work for per- 
haps the fortieth time to cast a compassionate 
glance at the prisoner. “ His mistress is dread- 
fully sorry to have to tie him up in this way.” — 
Miss Challis said “ dreffully sorry,” and her speech 
and tone otherwise were of that peculiar fashion 
which ladies are wont to use in addressing pet- 
dogs and babies, but which we do not attempt 
here precisely to reproduce. — “But it is for his 
own good, so it is. There are bad, horrid men 


io8 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


about who would carry him away, and shut him 
up in a cold, dark box, and never let him see his 
darling mistress any more.” 

And Romulus (who had not minded being called 
Remus and who did not now seem to mind hear- 
ing Tristram and Johnnie characterized as “bad, 
horrid men ”) returned his mistress’s glance not 
unaffectionately, and thumped feebly with his tail 
upon the floor, and closed his eyes again. He 
was a little dull this morning as well as melan- 
choly. Too much Buffalo biscuit had given him 
a headache. 

But Jemima, it would seem, took exception to 
what Miss Challis had said if Romulus did not. 

“ I don’t believe they can be so very bad, 
aunt Helen,” she thoughtfully objected, not how- 
ever looking up from her book. She was reading 
a copy of Martin Chuzzlewit; or rather she was 
looking over its illustrations which were by Bar- 
nard and were capital. “ I’m sure the older one — 
the scarecrow — was too funny for anything.” 

“He was too absurd for anything,” declared 
Miss Challis. 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 109 

“ And as for the other,” pursued Jemima, this 
time raising her eyes and fixing them, it may be 
presumed, upon a vision of Johnnie as he had 
appeared that morning at the boat-house, his con- 
certina held defensively before his face, “ I’m sure 
he never would hurt anybody.” 

“ At any rate,” said Miss Challis, “ I wish 
they would go away. I sha’n’t have a moment’s 
peace so long as they are about. I know they 
mean to steal him again if they can.” Once more 
her glance fell fondly upon the dog. “ Poor old 
Remus!” she said again, “he hasn’t seemed a 
bit like himself since we found him. I suppose 
they’ve whipped him and ill-treated him all the 
time he’s been gone. But it’s all over now, dear 
old fellow. They shall never have him again.” 

Just then there was heard the sound of wheels 
coming up the stable drive (which was separated 
from the grounds by a tall hedge) and then a 
voice in the stable yard. 

“Who’s that!” cried Miss Challis sharply. “Is 
it him ? ” and if anybody had accused her of bad 
grammar, doubtless she would have replied in- 


no 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


stantly that it was good enough for the person 
referred to ; she was thinking of Tristram. 

Jemima got up and peeped through the vines, 
standing on the tips of her toes. 

“ No,” said she, “ it’s somebody talking to Ed- 
ward — a man.” 

“A man ! O, dear! You don’t suppose it is 
somebody they have sent?” Miss Challis glanced 
uncertainly in Rom’s direction. Then, with a 
sudden determination to be on the safe side, she 
rose from her chair and lifting, with great diffi- 
culty, the iron weight quickly went with it into 
the house, Rom of course following after though 
quite without lending his consent or very much 
mechanical assistance to the movement. 

When she came back a moment later she found 
that the “ man ” had driven on from the stable 
and halted his wagon at the steps of the Heptagon 
Room. He was sitting on the seat, talking with 
Jemima. The wagon (as well as the horse) was 
a somewhat ancient and dilapidated affair, cov- 
ered ; and from it there proceeded an odor so 
unmistakable as to give a distinctly tautological 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


Ill 


character to the legend, “ Fish and Oysters,” in- 
scribed upon its side. The man himself was an 
elderly individual, rather stout, dressed for the 
most part in a long flannel blouse and a pair of 
dusty rubber boots. Upon his head was a black 
“ stovepipe ” hat, much out of style and repair. 
His face was largely invisible, being concealed by 
a pair of green goggles, a thick growth of whisker, 
and a woollen comforter wound several times 
about his neck. As soon as he saw Miss Challis, 
he got down from the wagon and came up. the 
steps 

“ Good-mornm’, mem,” he began very jovially. 
“ Anything in my line, this mornin’ ? My line is 
the fish line, you know.” He laughed wheezingly. 
His joke was funny, like the rest of his establish- 
ment, because it was antiquated. And then, still 
advancing, he held out his hand. 

But Miss Challis drew haughtily back. She who 
could keep a supposed book-agent at his distance 
was not likely to shake hands with a strange fish- 
pedler. And besides she found herself regard- 
ing the person before her with a sense of very 


1 12 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


positive distrust. He produced upon her, oddly 
enough, as she looked at him, a certain twofold 
effect. Her eyes were perfectly good and she 
could see, plainly enough, that he was, physically, 
just what he appeared to be, a not over cleanly, 
rather ill-appearing and vulgar-spoken old man. 
Indeed at that moment, somewhat taken aback 
by her attitude, he pulled off his hat and wiped 
his brow, revealing as he did so an expanse of 
bald head undoubtedly genuine. But at the same 
time his queer attire — his goggles and beard and 
woollen comforter and blouse — as she took them 
in, instantly and persistently suggested to her the 
notion of disguise. What were goggles, and thick 
whiskers, and woollen comforters in warm weather 
ever used for. but for purposes of disguise? And 
if for disguise, then for the disguise of whom, in 
this instance, but of that arch deceiver whom she 
knew already as a person of numberless disguises 
and subterfuges (with whom she had connected 
the newcomer even before she had seen him) Mr. 
Tristram Tuckerman of Providence? Thus it 
was that as she looked upon her visitor she saw 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


”3 


in him not only the innocent fish-vender that he 
claimed to be but also (and in spite of her com- 
mon-sense telling her better, she could not for 
the moment separate the two) our “bad” and 
“ horrid ” hero, come back in this greasy guise to 
wrest from her once more and bear away (the 
very fish-cart, so well adapted to the purpose, con- 
firmed the thought) her beloved dog. 

There was therefore, with all her haughtiness, 
a slight tremor in the young lady’s voice as she 
answered, 

“ No, sir ; we want nothing at all.” 

But the visitor was not fatally abashed. 

“ That’s all right,” he declared cheerfully. “ I 
only asked because I alius asks. Bus’niss afore 
pleasure, ye know! Ye see, Miss, it’s jest here.” 
He set one of his feet, at this point, upon the has- 
sock where Jemima had been sitting, and resting 
his elbow upon his knee spread out his hand 
before his hearers as though the whole subject 
lay in its palm. “ It’s jest here . My theory is 
that ev’ry man orter hev, in addition to his rig’lar 
bus’niss,” all the while the extended hand and 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


114 

forearm, with the knee for a point of leverage, 
was moving with slow emphasis up and down — 
“ orter hev, in addition to his rig’lar bus’niss, 
somethin' else , that comes under the head o’ pleas- 
ure. Ev’ry man orter hev some special art 
or accomplishment, outside of his bus’niss, thet 
he c’n take up an’ enjoy of off hours. With one 
man it might be paintin’ pictur’s ; with anuther 
writin’ pomes; an’ others might play the fiddle, or 
raise posies, or putter over tools an’ machinery. 
It depends on each man’s nat’ral gifts an’ notions. 
Now with me, mem, it’s dorgs." 

“ Dogs ! ” Miss Challis could not repress an 
exclamation. It was true, then ; he had come 
about the dog. 

“ Yes’m, dorgs,” pursued the pedler. “ Ye 
see, mem, ever sence I was knee-high to a pint 
o’ oysters, I’ve b’en crazy over dorgs. Other 
youngsters might want their kites an’ their grim- 
cracks an’ their velossypeeds, but I wanted dorgs. 
Give me a puppy — Whoa, Habakkuk ! ” 

This last w r as addressed to his horse who, though 
quite old enough to entitle him to a place on the 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


IJ S 

list of the Minor Prophets, had for some moments 
been exhibiting a youthful impatience to be going. 

“Ye see, Miss,” the pedler explained, “he 
knows jest how long it takes to sell a fish, an’ he’s 
used to movin’ on when the time is up. I don’t 
gen’rally combine bus’niss an’ pleasure in this 
way. Wall, as I wos sayin’ — ” 

But Miss Challis had now so far recovered her 
self-possession as to be capable of self-defense. 

“Never mind what you were saying, sir,” she 
said curtly. “ If your horse is impatient, we will 
not keep him.” 

The pedler reassuringly raised his hand. 
“ Never you mind, Miss ! This, as I said afore, 
is pleasure an’ not bus’niss, I didn’t come here 
to sell you any fish — leastways not no ordinary 
kind o’ fish. I’ve got a dog-fish, now ” — He 
laughed his asthmatic laugh again, looking around 
at his wagon. “Whoa, Habakkuk ! ” 

Miss Challis glanced significantly at Jemima at 
this second strange mention of the word dog. But 
Jemima was listening to the pedler, seemingly not 
at all aware that he was so suspicious a character. 


1 16 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


“ However, I’ll come to that in one minute,” 
the man continued. “ As I wos sayin’ — ” 

“ But I cannot listen to what you were saying,” 
Miss Challis interrupted him decidedly. 

“Oh ! yes, you can, Miss,” replied the other with 
cheerful assurance. “You must listen. You’d 
never forgive yourself if you didn’t. As I wos 
sayin’ — ” 

Miss Challis looked desperately about her and 
in so doing caught sight of Edward, the coachman, 
going down the garden path. She raised her 
voice and called out to him. 

“ Edward,” she asked him as he came up, “ do 
you know this man ? ” 

“ Know him ? ” answered Edward laughingly. 
“Why, to be sure, Miss Helen. It’s old Artemas 
Trimmer, that peddles fish over on the Attleboro 
road.” 

“Yes, Miss,” Mr. Trimmer himself glibly put 
in, “peddles fish and raises dorgs. Fish is my 
bus’niss, dorgs is my pleasure. As I wos sayin’ — ” 

“ Are you sure you know him, Edward ? ” Miss 
Challis persisted. 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


117 

“ Why, certainly, Miss Helen. I’ve known 
him these twenty years.” 

“ Well !” ejaculated Miss Challis, breathing a 
sigh of relief and able now really to view her visitor 
in the singular number. Then “Well, Mr. Trim- 
mer, what was it that you wanted ? ” she asked. 

“ Wall, Miss, as I wos sayin’ ” — 

“Oh! but excuse me, Mr. Trimmer, I can’t listen 
to that now. Please tell me in one word what 
you wish.” 

Mr. Trimmer raised his eyebrows and regarded 
her with an injured look. Then, with an air that 
seemed to say, “ Oh ! very well, Miss. I’ll tell you 
in less than a word if you wish it,” he plunged his 
hand, through a slit in his blouse, down deep into 
some hidden pocket, and then, drawing it forth, 
held up to view a dog-collar, 18 much battered and 
worn, but that had evidently in its day pretended 
to some elegance. 

Miss Challis looked at it blankly. “What is 
it ? ” said she. “ A dog collar P'” Then sud- 
denly she recognized it. “ Why,” cried she, “ it’s 
mine — Remus’s ! Where did you get it ? ” 


n8 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


Mr. Trimmer, still without a word, handed her 
the collar. 

She took it and examined it. “ Yes,” said she, 
reading from the plate, “ ‘ Abram Challis. N umber 
Twenty-One.’ Yes ; it is the collar Remus had on 
when he was lost.” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Trimmer, taking back the col- 
lar and now finding his voice again. “ And the 
one he had on when he was found, too.” 

“ Had on when he was found ? ” repeated Miss 
Challis. “ What do you mean ? ” 

“You lost a dorg, I b’lieve, some two months 
ago,” said Mr. Trimmer. 

“ Why, yes — but ” — 

Mr. Trimmer calmly put up his hand. “ Never 
you mind, Miss. Excuse me. And you adver- 
tised him, didn’t you? — a Gordon setter, black- 
white-an’-tan, weighs forty-five pounds. Is that 
so ? ” He waited for his answer. 

“Yes; but” — 

“ Twenty-five dollars reward to the finder? ” 

“ Of course. But ” — 

“ Very well. I've got the dorg /” Mr. Trimmer 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


n 9 

regarded her with a look of mingled triumph and 
gleefulness. 

“Got the dog?” repeated Miss Challis, knitting 
her brows. “ What do you mean ? ” 

“I mean, Miss, that here is the collar an’ the 
dorg himself ain’t fur off. Whoa, Habakkuk ! ” 
Habakkuk this time had started resolutely on 
and had nearly disappeared around the front of 
the house before his master, running after, suc- 
ceeded in stopping him. Then it was that the 
two girls, looking on in perplexity and wonder 
from the Heptagon Room steps (Edward had 
gone about his work again) saw the mysterious 
fish-pedler go to the back of his wagon and, 
fumbling there a moment, all at once turn toward 
them again with a dog in his arms. This dog, as the 
man drew near, was seen to be a handsome Gor- 
don setter, of the purest plumb-black and sienna- 
brown color wdth w'hite markings — the perfect 
counterpart in size and appearance of that other 
dog whom the reader has come to know as Rom- 
ulus, the property of Tristram Tuckerman, who 
had been so hurriedly withdrawn from the scene. 


120 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


Mr. Trimmer came proudly forward and put 
the dog down at the steps, holding him by a steel 
chain attached to the collar which he had replaced 
about the animal’s neck. Miss Challis stood 
there, her face suddenly grown almost colorless ; 
but she did not move or make any sign. The 
dog, however, instantly n^v as he saw her (poor 
fellow ! he had been through some strange expe- 
riences since he had seen her last and may be 
pardoned for not recognizing her before) uttered 
a cry of joy and would have leaped upon her but 
that the chain held him. 

“ There, Miss,” said Mr. Trimmer, grinning 
broadly, “there’s your dorg.” 

But Miss Challis drew stiffly back, compressing 
her lips. 

“You are entirely mistaken,” said she. “My 
dog is in the house. I found him some time 
ago.” 

Mr. Trimmer looked suddenly thunderstruck. 
“ Your dorg in the house ! ” he exclaimed. “You’ve 
found him ! What d’ye mean ? Ain’t that your 
dorg ? Whose dorg is it then ? ” 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


1 2 I 


“That is for you to say,” answered Miss Challis 
stonily. 

“But, Miss, he answers to your description eggs- 
actly. An’ there’s the collar.” 

“A collar is not a dog, sir,” declared Miss 
Challis with absolute truthfulness. 

“Yes, Miss ; but — whoa, Habakkuk ! Whoa ! ” 

He looked wildly around. Habakkuk was quite 
invisible now, wagon and all ; but the sound of 
retreating wheels and a multiplied foot-fall upon 
the pavement testified to the fact that his impa- 
tience had at length fairly gotten the better of him 
and that he had started off, full speed, for the front 
gate. Mr. Trimmer dropped the steel chain. 
“Take care o’ that dorg jest a minute, will ye, 
Miss ? ” he said. “ I must look out f’r my horse.” 
And then he disappeared on the run. 

The moment his back was turned Miss Challis’s 
whole demeanor changed. She sprang forward 
with face all aglow and glistening eyes, and, sink- 
ing on her knee, with a little cry of rapture re- 
ceived full into her arms the dog who, finding 
himself free, had again leaped towards her. 


i 22 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


“ O, Remus ! Remus ! ” she cried, and hugged 
and kissed him again and again, with such tender- 
ness as never since that day she first met him in 
the road had she bestowed upon our old friend 
Romulus when she had thought him hers. This 
was a real finding. This was her own darling 
dog. Her heart told her now that it was so, as it 
had not told her before. “ O, Remus ! Remus ! 
To think that I should ever have mistaken another 
dog for you ! ” And she begged his pardon over 
and over with twenty burning kisses and caresses. 

“Why, Auntie!” exclaimed Jemima, standing 
and staring at her. “ I believe you knew it was 
your dog all the time.” 

“Knew it ! ” cried Miss Challis. “Of course I 
knew it ! But I wasn’t going to acknowledge it 
to him. I couldn't . O, Jemima, what a stupid, 
wicked, abominable blunder we have made ! 
What a goose I have been — to think that that 
other dog was Remus and to take him away from 
those boys as I did. What shall I ever do about 
it ? I never, never, never can acknowledge to 
them that I was wrong, so long as I live ! O, 



HE IS NOT MINE, SAID THE YOUNG LADY FIRMLY 












- 




\ 


































% 









































I 




t 















































































































THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


I2 5 


Remus, why didn't you. come back a week sooner ? ” 
And she fell to embracing the dog again, so ex- 
cited and unstrung by what had occurred that she 
hardly knew what she was saying or doing. 

“But, aunt Helen,” Jemima severely assured 
her, “ you will have to acknowledge to them that 
you were wron£, and give them back their dog 
and apologize. Of course you will ! ” 

“O, dear! O, dear !” moaned Miss Challis. She 
was fairly prostrated now upon the floor with her 
arms clasped tightly about Remus’s neck. “What 
shall I do ! What shall I do ! ” Then all at once, 
quick as a lightning-flash, she was up again, alert 
and stern. “Hark! What’s that ?” she uttered, 
and stood listening like a hunted doe. 

The varied cry of men’s voices could be heard 
in the street, and then the exultant tones of the 
fish-pedler : “ O-ho, you’ve got him, hev ye ? 
Whoa, Habakkuk ! ” 

“There he is!” cried Miss Challis. “ He’s com- 
ing back ! Remus — here, quick ! ” 

She seized the dog by the chain and without 
a moment’s hesitation, to the complete astonish- 


126 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


ment of her companion, turned and went with him 
swiftly into the house. 

She was gone two or three minutes. Then she 
abruptly reappeared. She walked straight for- 
ward, her head erect, her step firm, though evident- 
ly she was much excited. She still held in her hand 
the steel chain with collar and dog attached. 

“Aunt Helen, what is the matter with you?” 
said Jemima sternly. “Why need you make such 
a time about it ? ” 

Miss Challis made no reply ; and at that mo- 
ment the sound of wheels was again heard and 
then Mr. Trimmer once more drove up. 

“Wall, I’ve got him!” he announced triumph- 
antly. “Whoa, Habakkuk!” and he jumped 
down from the wagon. 

“Mr. Trimmer,” Miss Challis said to him, “I 
want you to take this dog away. He is not mine.” 

“ But, Miss ” — Mr. Trimmer began to protest. 

The young lady shook her head firmly, almost 
angrily. 

“ I have nothing more to say about it. He is 
not mine.” 


THE HEPTAGON ROOM. 


127 


“ But, Miss, is this the way to treat a man ? I 
will see your father. Where is he ?” 

“ He is away now, for a day or two. You can 
see him when he returns, if you wish.” 

“ But do you mean to say that dorg is not the 
one you lost?” 

“ Yes, sir ; that dog is not the one I lost.” 

And so, obliged to content himself for the pres- 
ent with only this, but vowing he would see the 
Commodore as soon as he got home, Mr. Trimmer 
sadly put the dog into his wagon and drove away. 

“ Why, aunt Helen ! ” Jemima reproachfully 
cried as soon as he was gone, “how could you 
tell him such a story.” 

“ I haven’t told him any story,” said Miss 
Challis grimly. “That dog is not mine. I gave 
him the other dog — the one that belongs to those boys t ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 

M EANWHILE all was quiet at the camp. 

Nothing serious had happened since the 
earthquake. A kind of saddened stillness hung 
about the place. There was no noise of song 
and laughter; the concertina was put away; the 
dishes rattled in the pan with but a half-hearted 
and muffled sound. Romulus was gone. The 
places that so well had known him — the restful 
shadow of the pine-tree, the sunny platform of 
the boat-house, the ice-box under the table — these, 
alas! knew him no more; and his master was in- 
consolable. Tristram had written to his father 
to know what he should do, but it was now the 
third morning and no answer had been received ; 
and still the great wrong that had been done re- 
mained unrighted, and, twenty-five miles away on 
128 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


129 


the heights of Beacon, the brass-covered State 
House still glittered undemolished in the sun. 
Tristram, day by day, grew more silent and irrita- 
ble and out of sorts. Nothing went right. Even 
the cooking suffered ; the fried fish got salted 
with sugar and the pudding got sweetened with 
salt. And so poor Johnnie suffered too. 

The afternoon mail at Random came in at five 
o’clock. Tristram and Johnnie were on hand at 
the office on the afternoon of this third day, still 
expecting the important letter. And still again 
the mail was opened and delivered and that letter 
had not come. There came to-day in its place 
however, another important letter — at least one 
that had the appearance of being important. 

It was a business-like looking document, directed, 
in a bold masculine hand, to Mr. Tristram Tuck- 
erman, stamped with a blue stamp and postmarked 
“ Random.” Tristram tore it open as soon as he 
got out of the office and read it with a countenance 
filled with sudden interest and wonder. 

“Well, what is it?” asked Johnnie, who was 
watching him. 


i3° 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


Tristram held the letter out before him by way 
of answer — a plain half-sheet of letter paper on 
which was written these words : 

If the owner of “ Romulus ” will go at once to a 
small yellow house 071 the Attleboro road just beyotid 
Mason's Corner, he will hear of something to his 
advantage . A Friefid. 

“Well, that’s funny,” observed Johnnie. “Who 
do you suppose wrote it ? ” 

“I don’t know,” said Tristram. “It seems to 
be anonymous.” 

‘‘It couldn’t have been Sinker Hotchkiss?” 

“Sinker Hotchkiss? No, indeed! Sinker 
Hotchkiss couldn’t sign his own name.” 

“He wouldn’t have to — to an anonymous let- 
ter,” said Johnnie simply. And then, “Maybe it’s 
the Challis girl,” he suggested. 

“ Humph ! She isn’t ‘ a friend.’ ” 

“Do you suppose anybody wrote it?” Johnnie 
asked. 

“Yes,” said Tristram, “I do. It bears unmis- 
takable marks of having been written by some- 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 13I 

body. But of course I don’t know who. There 
are plenty of people who might have written it. 
All Random must know about the dog by this 
time. However, that isn’t the point. It’s evi- 
dently somebody who means to help us get Rom 
back.” 

“ Maybe it’s a hoax,” said Johnnie warily. 

“ Maybe it is ; but I’m going to go and find out 
all the same.” 

“ You are ? When ? ” 

“ Right off — as soon as I can get a horse. 
The letter says ‘ at once.’ ” 

“What, without any supper !” cried Johnnie. 

“Yes ; without any supper. Come on.” 

And they went across the Green to the livery 
stable. 

They readily learned, while the horse was being 
harnessed, the exact whereabouts of Mason’s Cor- 
ner and the Attleboro Road. They said nothing 
about the yellow house; Tristram did not think it 
prudent. And starting off at half-past .five with 
only a six-mile drive before them, they found 
themselves, while the sun was still well up, in the 


1 3 2 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


immediate vicinity of their quest. They discov- 
ered the yellow house without asking any ques- 
tions (indeed there was nobody to ask ; the locality 
was a lonely one) and drew up (quite filled with 
curiosity and expectation now) before its broken 
gate. The house was a rickety structure, one-and- 
a-half stories high, with very untidy surroundings. 
A covered wagon, marked “ Fish and Oysters ” 
stood at rest in the side yard. A vociferous cho- 
rus of barkings, as if there were a dozen dogs on 
the premises, greeted their arrival, though only 
one appeared in sight. This one, a small Scotch 
terrier, came snapping about their heels as they 
alighted, until a man appeared at the door of the 
house and called him off. 

This man was a stranger to our two heroes, 
though already known to the reader as Mr. Arte- 
mas Trimmer. He advanced to meet his visitors 
with great cordiality, holding out his hand. 

“Wall, boys, how d’ye do, how d’ye do? Glad 
to see ye. What c’n I do f’r ye ? Is it bus’niss 
or pleasure ? ” 

“Well,” Tristram answered, laughing and not 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


133 


disdaining the offered member, “it’s a little of 
both, I fancy.” He did not know exactly what he 
had come for himself ; but he thought that if he 
waited a little perhaps he might find out. 

“Ah! a leetle of both, is it?” Mr. Trimmer 
briskly rubbed his hands together. “We combine 
the two, do we ? Very well. That ain’t alto- 
gether a bad plan, I sometimes find, myself. Now 
my bus’niss, ye see, is fish. I buys ’em an’ I sells 
’em.” 

“ So we inferred,” observed Tristram, glancing 
toward the wagon. 

“Yaas; fish is my bus’niss, as I wos sayin’. 
But it’s a theory o’ mine, ye know, that ev’ry man, 
in addition to his rig’lar bus’niss, orter have some- 
thin' else that comes under the head o’ pleasure, ’n’ 
thet he c’n take up an’ injoy of off hours. With 
one man it might be paintin’ picturs; with an- 
other writin’ pomes ; an’ another might play the 
fiddle ” — 

“Yes, or the concertina,” Johnnie here inter- 
posed with animation. 

“Yaas, or a concertina,” said Mr. Trimmer 


134 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


nodding. “ Or posies, or sculpturin’, or machinery 
or — or dorgs. Mine’s dorgs.” 

“Ah!” uttered Tristram with instant interest. 
“ You deal in dogs, do you? ” 

“ Deal in ’em ! Young man, I revel in ’em. 
Dorgs is my delight. Eversence I wos knee high 
to a pint o’ oysters” — And Mr. Trimmer went 
on, in a strain with which the reader is already 
familiar and must not be troubled with a second 
time, enlarging eloquently on his favorite sub- 
ject. 

Tristram listened patiently but broke in as soon 
as he found it possible. with a request to be shown 
the dogs in Mr. Trimmer’s present possession. 
He did not know what he expected ; it certainly 
had not entered his head that his own dog could 
be anywhere about the place; but — especially 
now that he found that the owner of the yellow 
house was a dealer in dogs — he eagerly expected 
something. 

Mr. Trimmer declared that nothing in the world 
would give him more pleasure (whether it were 
connected with business or not) than to gratify 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 135 


this request, and he at once led the way around 
the house. 

Along an open space in the rear, under a row 
of apple-trees, there were ranged, like so many 
chicken-coops, a number of dog-houses, from the 
respective doors of which, as our friends drew near, 
there rushed forth a dozen or more dogs — setters, 
bull-dogs, spaniels, terriers — all yelping and bark- 
ing and springing forward, so far as their chains 
permitted, to meet the visitors. But for only one 
of them did our two heroes have any eyes at that 
moment. That was Romulus. 

Tristram stopped and stared. 

“Where, in the name of Nicodemus,” he gasped, 
“ did you get him 7 ” 

And then, not waiting for an anwer, he strode 
forward and kneeling down began caressing the 
dog almost as effusively as Miss Challis herself 
might have done. 

The next instant however his glance fell upon 
the dog’s collar and he read the inscription, 
“ Abram Challis , No. 21.” He scowled, took off 
his eyeglasses and rubbed them, and theji read it 


136 AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 

again ; after which he gazed at it for several mo- 
ments in a state of growing stupefaction. Abram 
Challis ! What did it mean ? Shade of the Duke 
of Gordon! could it be that this — that this was 
the other dog ? He looked at him again, his gold- 
brown eyes, his black nose, his silken ears, his 
head and body and tail. He knew him every inch 
of him, every spot and line that testified to his 
pure Gordon descent. And yet — did he know 
him ? He turned almost fiercely to the fish-man. 

“Where did you get this dog?” he demanded 
again. 

“Where did I git him?” was the calm rejoin- 
der. “ Wall, I come by him honestly, I guess.” 

“ Whose dog is he ? ” 

“ You c’n see f’r y’rself. The owner’s name is 
on the collar.” 

“Is that Commodore Challis’s dog?” 

“ Yes, sir ; it is. An’ f’r thet matter, I hain’t 
no objection to tellin’ how I come by him. I 
found him, a week ago, over Woonsocket way — 
a party hed him who, I hain’t a doubt, stole him 
in the fust place an’ wos holdin’ of him on account 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 137 


o’ the reward; an’ then didn’t darst claim it after 
all. But I propose to claim it — twenty-five dol- 
lars in full.” 

“Well!” Tristram ejaculated. “You may cut 
me up into steaks and smother me in onions ! ” — 
And then words failed him. He stood and looked 
down at the dog utterly amazed and confounded. 
Rom looked back at him and whined and wagged 
his tail, saying as plainly as dog could say it, 
“ Master, master, here I am again, your own dog 
Romulus. What is the matter? Aren’t you going 
to take me away with you, out of this place ? ” 
And his master hearing did not understand, and 
seeing refused to perceive that this was his own 
dog ; but slowly and surely made up his mind in- 
stead that it was Miss Challis’s dog, Remus — . 
the one that looked like Rom. Looked like him? 
Zounds ! Were ever two dogs in this world that 
looked so much alike before ! 

“ I could have sworn by all the ex-Presidents of 
the United States,” Tristram slowly avowed, “that 
that was my dog. Look at him, Lovey. Did you 
ever see anything like it ? ” 


138 AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 

“No,” said Lovey, “I never did.” 

“ It’s no wonder she made the mistake she did,” 
declared Tristram, seeing Miss Challis’s conduct 
at that moment in a gentler light than any in 
which it had before presented itself. “ I vow, I 
nearly made it myself.” 

Mr. Trimmer meanwhile listened to all this 
with no little perplexity. There was some mys- 
tery about this matter which he did not under- 
stand. Were there two dogs instead of one ? 
If so possibly he had made a mistake. These 
young men seemed to have no doubt that this was 
Commodore Challis’s dog ; but he had his doubts 
most seriously now, remembering that Miss Chal- 
lis herself had denied it. He realized that his 
twenty-five dollars was in imminent danger. He 
shrewdly kept his counsel therefore ; and he was 
quite prepared for the proposition that our hero, a 
moment later, abruptly made him. 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Tristram. 
“This is Commodore Challis’s dog. Now I hap- 
pen to know the Commodore ; and if you like, I’ll 
take him back for you, to save you the trouble.” 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


139 


“I’m much obleeged to ye,” Mr. Trimmer coolly 
responded. “Very kind of you to be sure. But 
how about the reward ? ” 

“Oh! I’ll collect the reward for you. Or, the 
Commodore will send it to you, no doubt.” 

“Thank ye very much,” said Mr. Trimmer, 
“ but I guess I’d better collect it myself. I shall 
know then I’ve got it.” 

“ Well, look here,” Tristram persisted. “ I’ll 
give you five dollars, cash, to let me take the dog 
back. You can get the reward all right, later. 
Come now, that’s a fair offer.” It certainly was 
a fair offer, more than fair ; but Tristram was ex- 
tremely anxious to take Miss Challis’s dog back 
to her himself. 

“Yes,” Mr. Trimmer admitted, “that’s a fair 
offer; but I don’t b’lieve I’ll accept. Tell you 
what I will do, though. You give me the twenty- 
five dollars an’ take the dorg. An’ then you can 
hev the reward.” 

Tristram hesitated. He had not twenty-five 
dollars with him, for that matter. “Lovey,” said 
he, “ how much money have you ? ” 


140 


AN ANONYMOUS COMMUNICATION. 


Johnnie examained his pockets and reported 
eight dollars. 

“I’ve got just fifteen, myself,” said Tristram. 

“ Well, sir— ’’this to Mr. Trimmer — “We’ll 
give you twenty dollars now, and the other five 
when we get the reward. How will that do ?” 

“I dun know but that’ll do,” agreed the fish- 
man. And in his heart he felt that it would do 
extremely well. 

And so the matter was arranged. Romulus (it 
made no more difference to him now than it had 
before that he was supposed to be Remus ; it was 
enough for him that he was once again with Tris- 
tram and Johnnie) joyfully followed his master to 
the gate, led by the steel chain, and was put into 
the buggy. 

Then, with the sun just sinking over the west- 
ern horizon and the moon coming up round and 
full in the east, the two boys set gayly off on their 
return. Tristram felt that at last his troubles were 
over. Miss Challis would certainly give up to him 
his Romulus when he brought her back her Remus. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 



RISTRAM was so happy 
the next morning that 
he made Johnnie a straw- 
berry shortcake for break- 
fast. He had arranged 
it all during the night. 
“ We’ll spend our last 
dollar and a half,” said 
he, “ in giving her a little surprise. We’ll get a 
horse and drive around there, keeping the dog 
out of sight somewhere under the seat. And then 
we’ll ring the bell (old Jupiter Tonans won’t be 
there ; I heard Jemima tell the postmistress, last 
night, that he’d gone away for several days) and 
will ask to see Miss Challis on important business. 
She’ll come down quick enough when she hears 


142 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


that ; her curiosity will bring her. And then I’ll 
ask her for my dog again ; and she will look at 
me with those black eyes of hers and go down to 
zero instanter, and freezingly inform me, once for 
all, that she hasn’t my dog. And then I’ll call 
out to you (you’ll be sitting in the buggy) and 
you’ll pull out the dog and hold him up. And, 
lo ! Grand Tableau: Triumph of virtue; utter 
discomfiture of impulsive young lady; Remus 
found ; Romulus restored ; tears, smiles, blushes ; 
all forgiven ; everybody happy. Ha, ha, ha ! ” 
Tristram laughed hilariously and pounded with 
his fist upon the table as he contemplated in 
imagination this final scene of the drama. And 
perhaps, far down on the horizon of his enraptured 
vision, there dimly reappeared at this moment the 
outlines of another scene even more enchanting — 
a summer day ; a lawn smooth and green as vel- 
vet ; a tennis court ; a young man and a young 
woman nimbly moving in the sunlight; while the 
winged balls flew high and fast between them. 
He laughed and laughed again. “ Here, Remus, 
you rascal, source of all my woes, thou who hast 


A LI TILE SURPRISE. 


*43 


brought down upon me ‘ the relentless anger of 
the cruel Juno,’ take that.” He flung the dog a 
bit of steak, a piece of the very tenderloin. And 
Rom, answering not to the name but the morsel, 
seized the meat and ate it greedily, as he had done 
twenty times before on that very spot. Rom felt 
perfectly at home of course. Only he wondered 
and fretted at being chained to*a table leg. His 
master had never treated him in this way before. 

Miss Challis and Jemima were in the Heptagon 
Room this morning as yesterday. Remus lay 
stretched near by, where Romulus yesterday had 
lain — attached too by the same strap and collar 
(it was Rom’s collar) to the same iron weight. 
His mistress did not yet dare let him run free. 
The morning was warm ; but there had been a 
shower during the night and the girls were talking 
of going driving. No doubt Miss Challis would 
have ordered the yellow pony and driven off at 
once had she known of the “little surprise” that 
had been planned for her benefit and the joyous 
cavalcade that even now was on its way to her 
door. But she was blissfully unconscious of all 


144 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


this. She congratulated herself that she was 
through with our hero and done with him — him, 
and his friend, and his dog. It was she (as the in- 
telligent reader will have surmised) who had writ- 
ten the anonymous letter. Not that she was in the 
habit of writing anonymous letters; but Tristram 
of course must have his dog ; and she could not and 
would not return the animal to him directly and con- 
fess herself wrong : she had her own dog now, and 
nobody should ever make her acknowledge that 
she had not had him all along. And for Mr. 
Trimmer, she meant to ask her father to send him 
a check as soon as he returned. And having thus 
arranged matters she hoped now to be left in 
peace. She was therefore not at all pleased when 
presently Mollie appeared with the announce- 
ment that Tristram was at the door and wished to 
see her on important business. 

Miss Challis rose hastily to her feet, dropping 
work and glancing fearfully about her. 

“ Oh ! but I can’t see him,” she said, with her 
face very red. “ Tell him I am engaged.” 

“That’s just what I did tell him,” Mollie an- 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


T 45 


swered, “ but he persisted upon it that he must 
see yez — it’s a case of absolute needcessity. An’ 
he smiled so swately, Miss Helen, when he took 
off thim no-bowed spectacles of his, that I couldn’t 
refuse but come and tell ye.” 

“Why don’t you see him, Auntie, and have 
done with it? ” said Jemima. 

But Miss Challis was quite determined. 

“ Indeed I shall not ! ” cried she. “ I’ve no 
desire to see him. I never want to see him again. 
He has his dog and I have mine ; and he has 
no right to come here and force himself upon me 
any more. Just go back, Mollie, and say that I 
can’t possibly see him, either now or at any other 
time. And don’t come to me again.” 

This last was in a tone that the servant was 
accustomed to obey, and she resolutely went back 
with her message. 

“ But I must see her,” Tristram firmly re- 
peated when he received it. “ It is of the utmost 
importance.” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see 
yez,” Mollie firmly replied. 


146 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


“O, yes! she will see me,” Tristram assured 
her. “ You go and ask her again.” 

“She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see 
yez.” 

“ But I’ve got something for her, something 
she’ll want to see.” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see yez.” 
Mollie paid no attention to his words. She had 
made up her mind, this time, not to be cajoled or 
argued into disobeying instructions. 

“ Tell her if she’ll see me,” pleaded Tristram, 
“ I can prove to her in one moment that she’s got 
the wrong dog.” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see yez.” 

“ O, bother ! ” said Tristram. “ You go and tell 
her what I say.” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see yez.” 

“But I know she would see me if she knew 
what I had out here.” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see yez.” 

“ Oh ! come, that’s a good girl. Go and tell her.” 
He coupled the entreaty with his most seductive 
smile. 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


1 47 

But Mollie, though she smiled back, still stuck 
to her text. 

“ Well ! ” observed Tristram at length, very 
much put out, “if you aren’t the most ligneous- 
headed individual it was ever my fortune to en- 
counter ! ” 

Mollie at this smiled her own sweetest smile, 
not doubting that she had received an extra fine 
compliment ; but again she repeated her formula. 

“ You won’t tell her, then ? ” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see yez.” 

“You absolutely, distinctly, categorically, dog- 
matically and astronomically refuse, do you ? ” 

Mollie raised her voice a little, still repeating 
her sentence. 

Tristram looked desperately about. What was 
to be done in the face of such unreasonableness 
and stupidity as this ? Something must be done. 
He could not go away as he had come. He would 
try a new method with the obdurate domestic. 
He summoned his fiercest frown. 

“ I have had enough of this,” he sternly de- 
clared. “ I must see Miss ^Challis. Where is 


148 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


she ? ” And he made a movement as if to push 
his way into the house. 

But Mollie was not to be intimidated. She 
folded her arms and planted herself squarely 
across the doorway. “ She towld me to tell yez 
she couldn’t see yez,” she said once more, com- 
pressing her lips. 

At this juncture a quick, decided step was 
heard on the floor; and then, all in an instant, 
there was Miss Challis herself fully confronting 
our astonished hero. Her face was flushed and 
her eyes were flashing sharply. She was not 
“ down to zero ” by any means, our hero instantly 
perceived. She was at least “ninety above, in 
the shade.” 

“ What does this mean ? ” she indignantly de- 
manded. “What is wanted? Have you come 
here again, sir, to make a disturbance as you did 
the other day ? My father is not at home, sir ; 
but the coachman is at hand. I can call him.” 

Tristram drew back in confusion. No matter 
where he met this young lady or under what cir- 
cumstances, she was sure to put him to a disad- 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


149 


vantage to begin with and set him to apolo- 
gizing. 

“ I was simply asking this person if I could see 
you,” he meekly explained. 

“ And she told you I was engaged, did she not ? ” 

“Ye-es,” answered Tristram. “But my busi- 
ness was of the greatest importance. I wished to 
see you about the dog.” 

The young lady stamped her foot. “ I do not 
wish to be seen about the dog, sir. There has 
been enough about the dog. The dog that I have 
with me, here in this house, is my dog. I mean 
to keep him. Further than that I have nothing 
to say to you in the matter.” She raised her head 
and looked our hero straight in the face with an 
air of magnificent rectitude. And the reader will 
do her the justice to remember that what she said 
was absolutely true. The dog in her possession 
was certainly her own dog. She did not feel 
called upon to say any more than this. She had 
let him know (and it had cost her something to do 
it) where his dog could be found. If he was so 
stupid as not to know his own dog now that he had 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


I S° 

found him (and she began to perceive that this 
was exactly the fact of the case) she was not 
bound to help him out of the difficulty. In order 
to do that she would have to tell him of the change 
she had made in the dogs yesterday ; and that 
would be to confess that she had had the wrong 
dog in the first place ; and that she would never do. 

Tristram laughed. He could not help it, the 
whole thing was so ridiculous, and matters were 
really so completely in his own hands. She would 
change her manner a bit when she saw what he 
had in the buggy. 

“ But, Miss Challis,” said he, “ I have it in my 
power now to prove that you are mistaken ” — 

Miss Challis interrupted with an impatient ges- 
ture. “ I don’t wish to hear anything of proofs, or 
anything else about the matter. I’ve done with it.” 

“ But I’ve got the proof with me.” 

Miss Challis knew perfectly well what was com- 
ing ; but it was this, of all things, that she wished 
to avoid. She saw that her only safety was in 
flight. “ Mollie,” she said with dignity, “ if you 
will stay right here, just where you are now ” — 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


‘ 5 1 

Mollie still guarded the door — “I will speak to 
Edward.” And she turned away. 

“ O ! but, Miss Challis — Miss Challis” — cried 
Tristram. “ I beg that you’ll wait a moment. 
I’ve found your own dog. I’ve got him with me 
out irf the buggy. I ” — 

But Miss Challis’ ears were deaf to this des- 
perate appeal and the tidings it conveyed. She 
did not pause or turn. She was already at the 
rear door; and the next moment she had disap- 
peared. Our unhappy hero could only address 
himself again to the servant. 

“Go after her and tell her, instantly, what I’ve 
just said,” he imperiously ordered her. “ Tell her 
I’ve^ot her own dog out here, and that I will 
have mine ! ” 

“ She towld me to tell yez she couldn’t see yez,” 
again answered the imperturbable Mollie. 

“ Do as I tell you ! ” 

Mollie put out her tongue at him, just the least 
little bit of it, and winked (ever so slightly) with 
one of her eyes. “ She towld me to tell yez she 
couldn’t see yez.” 


* 5 * 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


Tristram was well nigh beside himself. He bit 
his lip, and flourished his eyeglasses, and stormed 
and demanded furiously — but all in vain. What- 
ever he might say or do, Mollie resolutely and 
persistently presented to him, like a set bayonet, 
that single sentence ; and he was quite unable to 
beat it down or get within its point. There was 
nothing for it but (temporarily at least) to abandon 
the effort ; and he turned away at length and went 
slowly down the steps and back to the carriage, 
calling down upon the ill-fated house and all its 
inmates fire and sword and pestilence, siege and 
bombardment, utter demolishment and destruc- 
tion. 

“What are you going to do now ? ” Johnnie in- 
quired as they passed out the gate and turned 
down the street. Johnnie, cowering within the 
buggy, had heard and comprehended all. 

“ I’ll be threshed if /know,” growled Tristram, 
and savagely brought his whip down upon the 
back of the horse. “ There’s one thing I do 
know, though. I’m going to have my dog ! ” 

And (alas for the absurdity of it !) poor Rom- 


A LITTLE SURPRISE. 


J 53 


ulus, putting out his head at that moment from 
beneath the seat, found himself rudely cuffed and 
thrust back. Tristram had a good mind to take 
him straight over to the pond and drown him, just 
to spite that girl who didn't know her own dog. 


CHAPTER X. 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 

N OW truly was Tristram desperate. What 
would he do next ? Indeed he did not 
know. What could he do ? “ The dog that I have 
is my dog and I mean to keep him. Further than 
that, I have nothing to say to you in the matter.” 
That was just it. The dog she had was hers and 
she would hear no more about it. With such a 
wall of unreasonableness and inconsistency as 
that she had surrounded herself, and before it 
our poor hero halted baffled and helpless. 

“ I don’t see but what you’ll have to go to law 
about it,” Johnnie observed. 

But Tristram shook his head. Law forsooth ! 
What would this young lady care for the law ? 
“ No,” said he. “ There’s only one thing left 
us — the resort to force, We’ll each get a cord- 
x 54 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


*55 


wood stick — you and I and Sinker Hotchkiss — 
and march over there, single file, and take the 
dog.” 

Johnnie looked rather dubious. 

“But we couldn’t do it,” he soberly objected. 
“ There’d be the Commodore, you know, and the 
coachman, and that servant girl ” — 

“ Well, then,” said Tristram, “ we’ll have out the 
militia. We’ll get the Governor of Rhode Island 
to declare war on the Governor of Massachusetts 
and send down the Providence Light Infantry in 
their bear-skin caps to attack the house.” 

“ I think it would be better to do the thing 
peaceably if we could,” reasoned Johnnie. “ If 
she could only see her own dog, she’d understand 
how she had been mistaken.” 

“ Yes ; but she won’t see him. You saw how 
she acted. She wouldn’t look at him when I had 
him right there.” 

“I know,” Johnnie admitted. “But suppose 
we should go there with him again, and hold him 
up in plain sight before the windows — she’d have 
to look at him then, wouldn’t she ? ” 


156 TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 

Tristram laughed. “No,” said he, “I’ll be 
switched if she would. She’d slam to the blinds 
and pull down all the curtains and cover up her 
head with her apron.” 

“ Well, then,” said Johnnie, “ why couldn’t we 
do like they do with foundlings — put him in a 
basket and hang him on the front-door-knob, and 
then ring the bell and run away. She’d look at 
him then.” 

At which suggestion, though he did not seem to 
accept it, Tristram laughed more heartily than 
ever. Tristram, after all, was not feeling as blue 
about the matter as he had been in times before. 
He still felt that with Miss Challis’s dog found 
and in his possession, it could hardly be that he 
should not soon get back his own. 

But later, when Johnnie, who had gone over 
alone for the five o’clock mail, returned (still with- 
out a letter), Tristram broke out again: “ Lovey, 
I’ve been thinking of that plan of yours.” 

“ What plan ? ” asked Lovey. 

“ Why, hanging the dog on the door-knob. I’m 
not sure but it would be a stroke of genius.” 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


1 57 


“ Is that so ? ” answered Johnnie. This was 
rather more than he had claimed for it. 

“ Yes,” said Tristram, stirring the hash upon 
the stove. “You see, I don’t want her dog, any- 
way, whether she wants mine or not. I’ve no use 
for him. I’m tired of seeing him around.” He 
glanced contemptuously at Rom who was lying 
under the table morbidly chewing his chain. 
“ He looks like Rom, but he isn’t Rom. He isn’t 
half the dog that Rom is. And I’ve concluded 
that the best thing we can do is to take him over 
there and leave him, as you propose. She couldn’t 
help but look at him then, as you say ; and no 
doubt when she saw both dogs she’d realize her 
mistake and repent.” 

“ Yes,” Johnnie affirmed. “ She couldn’t help 
looking at him if we hung him on the door-knob.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Tristram, “ I don’t mean literally to 
put him in a basket and hang him on the door. 
But we’ll take him over there — this very night, 
as soon as it’s dark — and leave him there, some- 
where where they’ll be sure to find him. I’ve got 
it all planned. Sinker Hotchkiss was just here ; 


% 

158 TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 

and he says that Edward, the man (he and Sinker 
are great friends), is going to be away somewhere 
this evening with Mollie, the second-girl — so 
there’ll be nobody there but Miss Challis and 
Jemima and the cook. (The Commodore is away, 
you know.) Sinker has given me the ‘ lay of the 
land,’ so that I could go up there blindfold and 
go all over the place, house and all. We’ll put 
on our tennis shoes so as not to make a noise on 
the concrete ; and we’ll wear the worst-looking 
coats and hats we’ve got, so as not to be recog- 
nized if anybody should happen to see us; and 
we’ll — yes, I’ve got it all planned. Are you 
ready for supper ? ” 

“I should say so!” declared Johnnie. “I’m 
as hungry as a pair of horses.” It must have 
struck him that Tristram’s plans were rather elab- 
orate, considering that their object was simply to 
go up into the Challis grounds after dark and 
leave the dog; but just then Johnnie was thinking 
more of the hash than of what his friend was saying. 

The village clock was just ringing eight as the 
two boys set forth from the camp upon their even- 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


I S9 


ing expedition. Romulus listlessly followed them, 
led by a piece of hemp string that had been sub- 
stituted (as of less noisy material) for the steel 
chain. It was a beautiful night, warm and still — 
almost too beautiful for their purpose which, though 
not a wicked one, was one of darkness. They 
went around by what was called the Pond Road, 
striking the main street of the village a half-mile 
below the Green ; and thence they made their way 
along the less frequented side, in the thick 
shadow of the trees, toward the Challis mansion, 
turning in at length, without having met anybody, 
at the driveway leading to the stable. Here they 
felt comparatively secure from observation. 

They cautiously advanced between the hedges. 
Half-way up the drive a sound of girlish laughter 
came over to them from the adjoining grounds. 
Johnnie nervously seized his companion by the 
arm. “ There they are ! ” he whispered. To 
which Tristram coolly answered, “All right, I’m 
glad to know it. If we know where they are, we 
can keep clear of ’em.” They came presently to 
the stable-yard. The doors of the stable were 


i6o 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


closed and all was quiet. A dog-house stood in 
one corner. Tristram’s heart beat quicker for a 
moment as he thought that Rom might be in it ; 
but it was empty. “ Why not tie the dog here and 
leave him?” Johnnie suggested; but Tristram im- 
patiently shook his head. They must go nearer 
the house than that. 

They passed on, therefore, through a second 
double gate, and found themselves in full view of 
the house, separated from it by a partially enclosed 
space paved with concrete and flooded with moon- 
light. At the corner of the house nearest them 
was a peculiar attachment, open like a piazza, and 
of irregular shape. To the left of this the drive 
led off around the front of the house ; to the right, 
along an ell, ran a narrow piazza-passage, shaded 
with vines ; and at the end of this the lights of the 
kitchen could be seen. No other lights were visi- 
ble. The two boys listened a moment ; and then, 
hearing no sound, they sped swiftly across the en- 
closure and took refuge in the concealing shadows 
of the Heptagon Room. 

“Ah!” muttered Tristram, looking about him. 



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TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


163 


“ This must be what Sinker Hotchkiss meant by 
the * Hepzibah Room.’ I never knew what a 
Hepzibah Room was before. It’s a room with 
seven sides to it. I should think she would want 
a room with seven sides ; she’s about that many- 
sided herself, what I’ve seen of her. It seems to 
be a comfortable sort of place — chairs, tables, 
hassocks and so forth, all complete. Thank you, 
Miss ” (this, of course, in response to a wholly im- 
aginary invitation from a wholly imaginary young 
lady), “ I will take a chair, since you insist upon 
it.” He sat down in a light wakefield sewing- 
chair trimmed with cherry ribbons, Miss Chal- 
lis’s peculiar property, and rocked himself to and 
fro. The chair creaked and sputtered shrilly, re- 
senting the rudeness. “ Seems to me you make 
a good deal of noise,” growled Johnnie, to whose 
imagination the young lady of the house was also 
vividly present. “ Is that so ? ” said Tristram 
coolly. And then, “What’s that yonder?” he 
asked, and got up to go and examine a black, 
round object that lay upon the floor. It was a 
hitching weight. There was a strap attached to 


164 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


it, and at the end of the strap — yes, an empty col- 
lar, Romulus’s own. Tristram would have known 
it by a feebler light than that which now served 
him. “ Upon my word ! ” he indignantly cried out. 
“ If this isn’t outrageous ! That is what she hitches 
Rom to ; and it weighs ten pounds if it weighs an 
ounce. I’ve a good mind to tie her dog to it and 
see how she likes it.” 

“Why don’t you? ” said Johnnie. “ This is as 
good a place as any to leave him.” 

“ All right, I will.” And Tristram, first remov- 
ing the collar, pulled Rom forward to the hitching 
weight (the dog knew the thing of old and dog- 
gedly resisted) and fastened the strap to the Chal- 
lis collar which was on his neck. The other 
collar (his own property) and the piece of string 
he carefully put away in his coat pocket. 

“Now,” said Johnnie, turning towards the steps, 
“ let’s go.” 

“ What’s your hurry ? ” asked Tristram. “ This 
isn’t a ceremonious call.” 

“ We’ve finished what we came for,” said Johnnie. 

“Well, we’ll go,” said Tristram. “Not that 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 1 65 

way, though. Vestigia nulla retrorsum. No back- 
ward steps, you know. That’s the Tuckerman 
motto. ‘ A wise traveller,’ says Rob Roy, ‘ never 
returns by the way he came.’ Somebody may be 
on our track.” 

“ You don’t think so?” uttered Johnnie, looking 
around with apprehension. 

“ I don’t know. We’d better go this way, any- 
how. Good-by, you old good-for-nothing.” — This 
to Rom who moodily stood there, refastened to 
his weight. — “ You don’t seem a bit glad to get 
home again. Give my regards to Miss Challis 
(if I don’t see her myself) and tell her if she isn’t 
instantly overcome with shame and remorse when 
she finds you, and doesn’t send me an abject 
apology at once, I shall cross her name off my 
calling list.” 

Then he turned and passed out from the Hep- 
tagon Room to the narrow piazza that ran along 
the ell, Johnnie reluctantly following. Johnnie 
did not at all see the necessity of a movement 
which lead directly toward the lighted kitchen, but 
Tristram gravely insisted that they must go around 


i66 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


the house in order to get safely away. “ Besides,” 
said he, “ I want to pay my respects to the cook. 
The etiquette of the profession, you know ; I’m a 
cook myself.” At which Johnnie doubtfully shook 
his head as he followed on. He was far from 
liking the mood that his friend seemed to be in. 
Tristram was too careless and light-minded by 
half, considering the nature of the expedition. 
And Johnnie felt it in his bones that there was 
trouble ahead. 

At the end of the piazza, peering around the 
corner, they saw the kitchen, its windows and 
doors wide open, and the light streaming out. 
Still no one was seen or heard, however, and pres- 
ently they moved to go down the steps. In so 
doing Tristram’s foot struck with force against a 
movable iron scraper, dislodging it from its place 
and causing it to go tumbling down the steps and 
fall with a ringing noise upon the concrete walk. 
The boys drew quickly back, Tristram moaning 
and rubbing his foot (though he was laughing, too, 
all the time) and making altogether more fuss 
over the accident than, it seemed to Johnnie, was 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


i6 7 


prudent or necessary. At the same moment a 
burly female form made its appearance in the 
kitchen doorway. 

“Faix, an’ who's there?” this person cried out. 

The two boys stood perfectly still ; though Tris- 
tram did not forbear to make his remark, under 
breath. “ It’s the cook, sure enough,”' he mut- 
tured. Then he sang (if it be possible that one 
should sing in a whisper) a couplet from a song 
which he will be remembered to have used on a 
former occasion : 

Then out spake the cook of our gallant ship ; 

And a jolly, fat cook was she 

“ Who’s there, I tell yez ? ” the woman peremp- 
torily repeated. 

Still receiving no reply, the woman stepped out 
doors, evidently quite certain that somebody was 
there ; and then, catching sight of the scraper, 
came toward the steps. Johnnie, in that fright- 
ful moment, would have turned and fled; but Tris- 
tram — could it be that he really wished to be 
caught ? — tightly clutched his arm and would not 
let him go. That instant they were discovered. 


1 68 TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 

“Bad cess to ye for a pair o’ vagabones, an’ 
phwat are ye doin’ here, thin ? ” demanded the 
servant at once, not a bit dismayed, it would seem, 
at the encounter. 

Tristram came down the steps. “ Good aven- 
ing to yez,” he said. “Troth, an’ we were lookin’ 
for a door.” 

“ A door is it ? Faix then, an’ ye can’t expict 
to find a door where there’s nothing but windys. 
Couldn’t ye see the kitchen door when it was wide 
open ? ” 

“ No,” said Tristram. “We could have seen it 
better if it had been shut. Is Mollie in ? ” 

“ Mollie ! ” cried the cook. “ Mollie who, thin ? ” 

“ As if you didn’t know her other name as well 
as I,” said Tristram. 

“ Well ; and phwat is it the likes o’ you wants 
of Mollie ? ” 

“ We want to see her,” said Tristram. And 
then, with a wink and a good-humored smile, he 
added, “ We’re her cousins from Cork.” 

“ Her cousins from Cork, are yez, thin ? ” The 
girl returned his look not ill-naturedly. Indeed, 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


169 


she did not seem to be an ill-natured or suspicious 
sort of person. These, no doubt, were friends of 
Mollie. So, “ She isn’t home yet,” she told them. 

“ Will she be in soon ? ” asked Tristram. “ Be- 
cause if she will, we’ll come in and wait. We 
wanted to see her that special.” 

“ Well, thin,” replied the cook, apparently not 
averse to company, “come in an’ sit down awhile. 
She’ll be home before long.” 

“Thank you, then, and we will.” Tristram 
walked beside the girl toward the door, beckoning 
Johnnie at the same time to follow. The latter, 
however, hesitated and hung back a little, seriously 
distrustful of his comrade’s intentions. Tristram 
stopped. “Hold on a bit,” he said to the girl. 
“ You haven’t any dogs about the place, have you ? 
My friend here is rather afraid of dogs.” 

“ Dargs, is it ! ” exclaimed the cook. “ Shure, 
an’ we’ve only one darg about the place, an’ he’ll 
not hurt yez.” 

“Is he in the kitchen ?” asked Tristram cau- 
tiously. “ Where do you keep him ? ” 

“ No,” said the woman reassuringly. “ He’s in 


170 TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 

the music room. Ye needn’t be afraid ; he’ll not 
come out. We don’t let him out nights. There’s 
somebody, bad luck to them, that wants to stale 
him.” 

“ All right,” said Tristram, and followed her in, 
Johnnie, in obedience to a second vigorous gest- 
ure, also reluctantly attending. “You see,” Tris- 
tram went on, seeming disposed to continue the 
subject, “ my friend, for some reason, is uncom- 
monly afraid of dogs. He can’t help it ; it’s born 
in him. He’s a brave enough fellow ordinarily ; 
too brave, in fact. Why, if you’ll believe me, he 
regularly risks his life, three times a day, to my 
certain knowledge — every time he sits down to 
table. I often tell him he’ll kill himself eat- 
ing” 

“ Is that so ! ” The girl bestowed a look of 
combined awe and admiration upon Johnnie, who 
stood there by the door looking anything but the 
daring and reckless individual his companion 
seemed to make him out. “ Well, he needn’t be 
afraid of this darg,” she said again. 

“You are quite sure he wouldn’t hurt us if he 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 171 

did get out?” Tristram asked. “What kind of 
dog is he ? Is he a big one ? ” 

“No, indade ! ” cried the girl. “ He isn’t a big 
darg at all.” 

Tristram knit his brow reflectively. “ I wish,” 
said he, “that we could see the dog. My friend is 
uncommonly afraid of dogs, you know. Why, you 
can see for yourself, this minute, that he’s all of a 
tremble about this one. But if he could only see 
him now, and know for himself that he’s a per- 
fectly harmless dog, he’d be all right. You 
couldn’t bring him in, could you — just a mo- 
ment ? ” He looked at her appealingly. 

“Why, thin, I don’t know but I might,” re- 
sponded the girl, “ av it will do your friend any 
good. Poor feller ! ” She seemed greatly to 
commiserate Johnnie’s infirmity. “ Yes, I will. I’ll 
go an’ get him.” And she turned to leave the 
room. 

But alas! at that moment an interruption oc- 
curred. Directly opposite the door by which they 
had entered the kitchen was another outer door, 
also open. Through this door at this moment 


172 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


came the sound of voices, not loud yet instantly 
recognizable as those of Miss Challis and Jemima 
— as though the two, strolling perhaps around the 
house, were approaching the doorway. 

“ Throth,” said the cook at once, “ here’s Miss 
Helen. She’ll show you the darg. I’ll ask her.” 
She turned toward the door. 

“ Bother Miss Helen ! I wish Miss Helen was 
in Kamschatka ! ” exclaimed Tristram, suddenly 
entirely serious and sincere. “Another minute 
and I would have had Rom out here and been off 
with him.” 

“Come,” said Johnnie, “let’s be going.” He 
made a motion toward the other door. 

Tristram sprang forward and seized his arm. 
Just beside them was a third door leading, evi- 
dently, toward the interior of the house. “ Here,” 
he hurriedly said, “ we’ll go this way. Come on, 
I know the way.” 

And before Johnnie well knew what was being 
done with him he found himself standing in a 
dark passage, his friend’s hand still tightly gripping 
his arm, and the door closed behind them. Then, 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 1 73 

as they stood there breathless a moment, they 
heard the cook’s voice in the kitchen. “Why,” 
she was saying, “ they must have gone out the 
other door, the gossoons.” 

But Tristram did not linger here. He knew 
exactly where he was (he had obtained from Sinker 
Hotchkiss a complete diagram of the premises, 
all the more useful because it was carried in his 
head instead of on paper and could be consulted 
in the dark) and without hesitation he pushed 
Johnnie along the passage, opening a door at the 
other end and passing quickly with him into the 
room beyond. This room was lighted by a hang- 
ing lamp, beneath which stood a large table with 
only the cloth upon it. An old-fashioned, mahog- 
any side-board, glittering with silver and glass, 
stood at one side. Handsome chairs with leath- 
ern seats were drawn back against the wall. 

“Where on earth are we ? ” murmured Johnnie. 

“ Humph ! ” said Tristram. “ A fellow as fond 
of his dinner as you are ought to know a dining- 
room when he sees it.” 


“What did you come in here for?” 


*74 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


“What did I come in here for? Well, I didn’t 
come to get my dinner ; you may be sure of that. 
I haven’t time to wait. Come on; this must be 
the music room.” He led the way toward a door 
to the right. Half-way to it, he stopped and 
turned almost fiercely upon Johnnie. “What did 
I come in here for?” he repeated. “What do 
you suppose I came in here for? I came in here 
for my dog. And I’m not going away without him, 
this tune , either ! ” 

The door of this second room stood open. 
There was no light within save such as shone 
over the shoulders $f the boys as they peered 
across the threshold. An upright piano could be 
dimly seen in one corner, and a music rack near 
by, and other articles of furniture here and there. 
On the floor in the middle of the room lay a dark 
object, a rug maybe, or a garment fallen there, or 
— could it possibly be alive? Tristram strode 
forward with beating heart. There was a stir and 
a growl. “ Rom ! Rom ! Can it be you at last ! 
Bless you, old fellow, don’t you know your own 
master ? ” He dropped upon his knees and threw 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 1 75 

his arms about the prostrate form. Had the dog 
been twice a stranger (it will be remembered that, 
in point of fact, Remus and our hero had never 
met until this moment) he could not have resisted 
or resented so loving an onset as this. 

But there was no time for greetings, however 
joyful. Tristram himself was all hurry now. He 
had found the dog at last ; he could not too 
quickly get him out of the house and away to a 
place of safety. With eager fingers he took the 
collar from his pocket and slipped it over the 
dog’s head, and then fastened to it the piece of 
string. This done he rose to his feet. “Come 
on, Lovey. We’ve no call to stay here any longer. 
I shake the dust of this place from my feet. Here, 
this leads to the library ; we can go out through 
here to the front door.” 

Holding the dog by the string and still closely 
attended by Johnnie, he stepped to the. door indi- 
cated and opened it. The instant he did so a 
stream of light rushed in. The library was lighted. 
Tristram thrust his head through the opening; 
and then instantly he drew it back again and shut 


176 


TWO COUSINS FROM CORK. 


the door. “ Shiver my timbers ! ” exclaimed he. 
“ If there isn’t the old three-decker himself ! ” 

“The old who?” asked Johnnie. 

“The Commodore. I thought he’d gone away.” 

“ He must have got back,” whispered Johnnie. 

“Yes; I think he must,” said Tristram. “He’s 
sitting there, reading, as large as life. Well, we 
can’t go through there. We’ll have to go through 
the dining-room. We can get into the front hall 
that way.” 

They turned therefore toward the other door 
again ; but just as they reached it, lo ! the door 
from the kitchen opened and Miss Challis and 
Jemima entered the dining-room. Tristram, vexed 
and alarmed, drew quickly back ; and then the two 
boys stood there, scarce daring to breathe, behind 
the music-room door, peeping out through the 
crack at the new-comers. 


CHAPTER XI. 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 

CE idea,” Miss Challis 
was saying as the girls 
came in, “of Norah’s 
letting those men in , 
in that way, on the 
pretense that they 
were Mollie’s cousins. 
They were probably 
those two tramps that were here this after- 
noon.” 

“ Yes,” said Jemima. “ I thought at the time 
they looked as though they would like to get into 
the house.” 

“Well,” Miss Challis declared, “they can’t get 
in now. I’ve locked all the back doors. And 
while I think of it I’ll go and lock the front door 
J 77 



178 SOME ICE CRE4.M AND A PICKLE. 

too. You can be bringing out the freezer while I 
do it. It’s right in the pantry there.” 

Our two entrapped heroes (certainly they now 
felt themselves in a trap), listening and watching 
as well as they could from their place of retreat, 
saw the girls come back, after a moment, each from 
her respective errand, and presently became aware 
that a season of refreshment was at hand. It is a 
well-established fact that young ladies, however 
dainty and abstemious they may appear on public 
occasions, can at times (and especially perhaps at 
that hour which immediately precedes the time of 
retiring) show themselves as capable of doing jus- 
tice to things good to eat as their brothers of the 
heartier sex ; and our two heroines, little dreaming 
that two boys were watching them through the crack 
of a door not a dozen feet away, did not prove 
themselves an exception to the rule on the present 
occasion. A cake basket piled high with gold and 
silver cake, a fruit dish from the side-board, a plate 
of berries and a freezer of ice cream were placed 
upon the table ; and then the girls drew up their 
chairs to.the feast. 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


179 


“ I’m afraid this ice cream is rather soft,” Miss 
Challis remarked, as she filled two of the saucers 
from the freezer. 11 It always is soft when you 
pack it over. It was hard enough at dinner time. 
It’s awfully good, though.” — She had stopped to 
taste it while still dipping it out. — “ This is made 
from pure strawberry juice and not from any ex- 
tract. I squeezed the berries myself. O-0-00-00 ! ” 
She threw back her head, closed her eyes, and 
for a moment seemed to devote all her faculties 
to the enjoyment of another taste. 

For some few minutes they sat there eating 
their ice cream, nibbling at the cake, tasting now 
and then of the fruit and berries, chatting volubly 
all the while of this and that. At length, when 
they had pretty well satisfied themselves, Miss 
Challis rose suddenly to her feet. 

“ Why, dear me ! ” she cried. “ Here we have 
been enjoying ourselves in this way all this time 
and never once thought of the Commodore. He 
is passionately fond of ice cream too, and he 
wasn’t here to have any at dinner. We’ll take 
some aft to him at once.” 


l8o SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 

She took out another saucer of the cream ; and 
then, filling another with berries, she placed the 
two upon a salver and bidding Jemima attend her 
with the cake, took up her line of march for the 
library, passing out from the dining-room by the 
door leading into the hall. 

The two boys, in their place of concealment, 
breathed a joint sigh of relief. The past ten min- 
utes had been a trying period, trying especially to 
Johnnie who in all his life had never known such 
hardship as being compelled to stand there mo- 
tionless, forbidden even to smack his lips, and 
see those girls eating cake and ice cream (talking 
about it all the while in the most aggravating 
terms) and he not permitted to have one bit of it. 
The pains of Tantalus were no longer a myth to 
him. He had been standing, peering out over 
Tristram’s shoulder, the latter half crouching and 
holding on to the dog. And no sooner, now, was 
he assured that the two girls had left the room 
than he stepped back ; and before Tristram at all 
understood his intention he was out of the door 
and making his way on tiptoe toward the table. 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. l8l 

“Here, you crazy-head,” Tristram called after 
him in an angry whisper. “Where are you go- 
ing ? Come back here ! They’ll be in again in 
a minute.” 

But Johnnie did not come back. He could not. 
He was not master of his own movements. He 
held straight on, answering not, halting not, drawn 
by a force which he was powerless to resist. He 
was going to have some of that ice cream. 

He took one of the saucers and quickly filled it 
heaping full, devouring the delicious compound all 
the while with his eyes before he came to taste it, 
noting with ecstasy the delicate pink of its color, 
such tint as only the genuine juice of the berry 
could produce. Then, saucer in hand, he looked 
around the table. Misery of miseries ! They had 
taken away the cake. Never mind ; there were 
some broken pieces on Jemima’s plate. And 
there were the berries. He added a few of the 
latter to his cream. Then, seizing a spoon, he 
prepared to eat. A spoonful of the mixture was 
on its way to his mouth. 

But alas ! from his very lips, as it were, the 


182 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


cup was dashed. All at once there was heard 
again the sound of voices in the hall. The girls 
were coming back. The spoon paused in mid-air. 
Johnnie looked wildly about him. He knew that 
he must fly ; and yet, to fly at such a moment ! 
But he would not go empty-handed. He held fast 
to his saucer with one hand and with the other he 
seized the cake upon the plate. Then he turned 
— it was full time ; the sounds were now danger- 
ously near— to go back whence he had come. 
Unfortunately, in his preoccupied state of mind, 
he had taken little note of the position of things ; 
and now, seeing the pantry door wide open be- 
fore him, he mistook it, in the terror of the mo- 
ment, for that of the music room. With one bound 
he crossed the threshold. When he realized his 
mistake it was too late to correct it. The girls 
had reentered the dining-room. 

Tristram, gnashing his teeth at Johnnie’s folly, 
still peeped through the crack. Miss Challis came 
first within his line of vision. There was some- 
thing peculiar in her manner. She walked with 
a quick, resolute step directly past the table. “ I 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 183 

do wish, Jemima,” she sharply exclaimed, “that 
you would learn to shut doors. Here is the pan- 
try wide open.” She went to the pantry door and, 
leaning rather than stepping across the thresh- 
old, pulled it to with a slam — at the same time 
(though this Tristram did not see) turning the key 
and taking it out of the lock. Then she whirled 
around, pale as a ghost. 

“Jemima,” said she in a low, intense voice, 
“ run, quick, and speak to father. Those two men 
are in this closet .” 

Jemima uttered a little scream. “ Why, aunt 
Helen ! O, dear ! How do you know ? ” 

“I saw one of them as I came in from the hall. 
I’ve locked the door, so they can’t get out. Go 
and tell him.” 

Jemima screamed again and than ran out of 
the room as fast as she could go. Miss Challis 
stood there motionless by the pantry door, list- 
ening fearfully for any sound within. Tristram 
meanwhile industriously searched his vocabulary 
for all the synonyms he could think of to the word 
idiot, and applied them in a bunch to his friend. 


184 SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 

Lovey had gotten them into a pretty pickle, along 
with his ice cream ! 

It took scarcely a half minute however to bring 
the Commodore upon the scene. He looked emi- 
nently warlike as he came in, brandishing aloft a 
huge boarding cutlass — one of the library orna- 
ments — with one hand, while with the other he 
vainly sought to free his coat-skirts from the tena- 
cious grasp of Miss Jemima who, like a transport- 
ship in time of danger, clung closely to her consort. 

“ Two men ! ” cried he, glaring fiercely about. 
“ Where are they ? Show me the rascals. Eh ? 
In the pantry ? ” He strode across the room (Je- 
mima relinquishing her hold and falling back as 
the scene of action was approached) and, trying 
the pantry door and finding it locked, beat upon 
it with the hilt of his cutlass. “ Within, there ! 
Ahoy ! Unlock this door — or, by the bones of 
Kempenfeldt, I’ll break it into ten thousand pieces, 
and you with it ! What are you doing in my pan- 
try ? Open the door, I say ! ” 

“ But, father,” his daughter here interrupted, 
“ the door is locked on the outside. I locked it.” 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 185 

“You ? ” The Commodore looked around a lit- 
tle bewildered. “ Where is the key, then ? ” 

“ O, father,” pleaded the young lady in tremu- 
lous accents. “ Don’t go in there. Please do not. 
Wait until Edward comes.” 

“ Edward ! What do I want of Edward ? It 
is those two men that I want. Give me the key.” 

Miss Challis on this produced the key ; and the 
Commodore, taking it, unlocked the door and 
threw it open. The two girls drew hastily back as 
though they expected somebody to rush out. The 
old gentleman stood firmly, weapon in hand, pre- 
pared to receive any such upon its point. But no 
one appeared ; and as they peered within the light 
which had preceded their anxious glances, illu- 
minating the apartment more or less completely, 
failed to discover to them any human presence. 
The only sign of such presence was an empty ice 
cream saucer with the spoon upon it, standing on 
the shelf. 

“ Humph ! ” grunted the Commodore. “ There’s 
nobody here. What d’ye mean, making all this 
fuss about nothing ? ” 


i86 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


“But I certainly saw one of them,” Miss Challis 
solemnly declared. “ I caught a glimpse of him, 
as Jemima and I came in from the hall, just as he 
was disappearing.” 

“ Well,” growled her father, “ he must have dis- 
appeared altogether. There’s nobody in here 
now.” He spoke from inside the pantry. 

“ They couldn’t have crawled out through the 
slide, could they?” suggested Jemima. By the 
slide she meant an opening in the rear of the pan- 
try, through which dishes were passed to and fro 
from the kitchen. 

“No indeed!” said Miss Challis. “The one 
I saw was a big, broad-shouldered fellow ; he 
never could have gotten through there.” 

But at that moment sounds of disturbance were 
heard within — a muffled cry as of some one 
roughly seized upon, a noise of tugging and scuf- 
fling, and the shouts and growlings and threaten- 
ings of the intrepid Commodore who seemed sud- 
denly to have discovered the intruders. 

“ Ah, you scoundrel, here you are, are you ? Hi, 
hi ! You needn’t think to escape that way. Come 



THE OLD COMMODORE STOOD FIRMLY, WEAPON IN HAND. 








SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


189 


out of that lubber’s-hole. Come out here, I say 
— or by the Boots of Bombastes, I’ll pull your 
legs out ! ” 

Then all at once there was a sound as of two 
persons falling heavily together upon the floor, 
amid repeated ragings and exclamations on the 
part of the old seaman. Jemima clasped her hands 
before her and gave utterance to a quick series 
of screams. Miss Challis, pale and trembling, 
yet looked resolutely about her in search of some 
weapon with which to arm herself and go to her 
father’s aid. But the next moment the Commo- 
dore himself emerged from the pantry, much rum- 
pled in appearance but flushed with victory, hold- 
ing at arms-length, firmly grasped by the collar, 
an impotently struggling prisoner. 

“ There ! ” cried he, panting for breath and as 
he spoke seeming to lift his prize fairly off his 
feet and set him down with a slam upon the floor. 
“ There are your two men ! ” 

The girls regarded with vast amazement the 
object thus vehemently produced. It was not two 
men ; it was not even one “ big, broad-shouldered 


190 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


fellow;” it was simply our unfortunate friend 
Johnnie, standing there limp and dishevelled be- 
fore them, his head hanging down, his shoulders 
drooping, his knees bent, every line and curve of 
his stout little figure utterly cast down and de- 
jected. The contrast between this unheroic appear- 
ance and the formidable shape that Miss Challis’s 
excited fancy had conjured was too much for the 
young ladies. They both burst out laughing. 

" Why,” cried Miss Challis so soon as she was 
able, “ it’s one of those boys from the boat-house 
that I've shut up in the pantry. And O, do look ! 
How dreadful ! It has turned his hair pe?-fectly 
white /” 

They all looked, and lo ! it was quite true. The 
prisoner’s hair was white as Bonnivard’s. John- 
nie himself, struck with fear at her words, put his 
hand to his head and then looked at his fingers. 
They too were white. In fumbling about the pan- 
try shelves he had accidentally knocked off and 
precipitated upon himself a package of plaster of 
paris. 

But the Commodore was little inclined to view 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 19 1 

his prisoner in a mirthful light. “ I don’t care 
what color his hair is,” he avowed. “ I want to 
know what he was doing in there. You, sir ” — 
he gave Johnnie’s collar a tighter turn at the same 
time twisting the poor fellow’s head around so as 
to savagely confront him — “ what were you do- 
ing in my pantry at this time o’ night ? Answer 
me ! Speak, sirrah ! Are you deaf and dumb ? ” 

Johnnie was not deaf and dumb, but he was 
forced to resort to the sign-language to let his cap- 
tor know that his shirt collar must be loosened 
before he could put his throat to its legitimate use 
as an organ of speech. 

“Well, then,” repeated the Commodore, relax- 
ing his grasp a little, “ what were you doing in 
my pantry ? ” 

“ Nothing,” gurgled Johnnie. 

“Nothing!” The Commodore was in one of 
his tempests instantly. “Nothing!” he shouted 
in a voice of thunder, and, like the flash of accom- 
panying lightning, his sword played about the 
prisoner’s head. “ Great Guns and Bullets ! Noth- 
ing, is it ? Couldn’t you find any other place than 


192 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


my pantry to do nothing in at ten o’clock in the 
evening ? /’ll give you nothing, sir ! I’ve a great 
mind to string you up in true man-o’-wars-man 
style and let you dance on nothing — or shut you 
up there again with your nothing, and feed you on 
nothing for a fortnight.” The old gentleman 
paused in his speech for lack of breath, but he 
still found energy to seize upon the shudder that 
(at the last terrible threat) had passed over the 
prisoner’s frame and convert it into a violent and 
prolonged shaking. 

At this point, all at once, Miss Challis also 
seemed to realize something serious in the situa- 
tion. 

“ I know what he was doing in there,” she ex- 
claimed. “ He has come here — he and that other 
one — to try and get Remus away.” Then she 
too confronted Johnnie with an air of fierce de- 
mand. “Where is he — your companion? Is he 
in the pantry?” 

“N-n-no,” gasped Johnnie, shaking his head. 
He still spoke with difficulty. 

“Where is he then ? Tell me this instant ! ” 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 


1 9 3 


Poor Johnnie! Judge him kindly if you can. 
He was not of the stuff of which martyrs are made. 
A braver fellow would have shut his lips tight and 
refused to betray his friend ; but this Johnnie was 
not capable of doing. He knew too well the hor- 
rible torture to which this young lady would put 
him to force from him an answer. He did not 
tell her in words — he realized that Tristram was 
listening — but with a single base motion of his 
hand toward the music room he indicated not less 
definitely his comrade’s whereabouts. 

Miss Challis, with a startled look, turned in- 
stantly and walked to the music room door. She 
was not afraid of Tristram, if Tristram was there. 
But indeed it was not of Tristram she was think- 
ing, but of Remus. She spoke the dog’s name 
as she crossed the threshold, first inquiringly, 
then in accents that took on the tones of despair. 
She rushed into the room, searched by the dim 
half-light its every corner, still agonizingly calling 
the name of the loved one. But all was silent. 
The room was empty. Remus was gone. 

She came quickly out, almost beside herself. 


194 SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 

She went straight up to Johnnie, both her hands 
outstretched ; and for an instant the poor lad be- 
lieved that she meant to seize him then and there 
and tear him into strips. Scarcely less terrible to 
him, however, as she halted before him, was the 
angry ring of her voice and (more fearful far than 
the play of the Commodore’s sword) the light- 
ning-flash of her eyes. 

“Where is my dog?” she cried out at him. 
“ Tell me where my dog is ! Tell me ! — Tell me! 
— if you ever expect to leave this house alive ! ” 

Johnnie for the life of him could not answer 
at the moment, though the trouble at his throat 
was this time internal. He was choking with fear. 
He could only feebly gesture in reply, motioning 
with his hand in a direction which might be de- 
scribed as that of “ all out doors.” 

“Tell us what you have done with the dog!” 
roared the Commodore, giving him another shake 
and, in his wrath, even pricking his legs with the 
cutlass. But Johnnie scarcely heard him or felt 
the point of the weapon. Was not that dreadful 
young woman standing there, running him through 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 195 

and through with the blade of her keen-edged 
glance ? 

“Where is my dog? Tell me — quick!” Miss 
Challis once again demanded, with such voice and 
mien that Johnnie felt that he must answer now 
or be instantly annihilated. 

“ He’s ou-out in the He-Heptagon Room,” the 
poor fellow managed to say. And the reader will 
remember that he believed he was telling the 
truth. He would no more have thought of telling 
this young lady a lie than of wilfully going with- 
out his dinner. 

“ In the Heptagon Room ! ” Again Miss Chal- 
lis turned and swiftly sped from the room. This 
time she was gone several minutes, during which 
the group left behind remained grimly stationary 
and silent. The Commodore never let go his hold 
of the prisoner’s collar; Johnnie still hung his 
head and looked the criminal he was not ; and 
Jemima fixed her eyes upon him still in mingled 
mirth and wonder. 

When Miss Challis came back she had Romu- 
lus with her, leading him by the strap which she 


196 SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 

seemed to have detached from the hitching-weight. 
The expression on her face as she entered the 
room, though it was quite a new one, was not one 
of relief and joy at having found her dog again ; 
it was rather one of perplexity and trouble, as 
though the finding had suddenly involved her in 
fresh difficulty. She led the dog straight to 
Johnnie. 

“ Is this my dog?” she sternly inquired of him. 

Johnnie nodded his head. 

“ Are you sure ? ” 

“Yes,” murmured Johnnie, “I’m sure.” 

“ How do you know it is ? ” The young lady’s 
manner was strange. 

“Because — because I do,” answered Johnnie. 

“ Could you take your oath to it, sir, in a court 
of justice ? ” 

“Why, ye-es,” stammered Johnnie, “I — I sup- 
pose I could.” He began to feel as though he 
were indeed being cross-examined on his oath, in 
a court of law. 

“ O, you suppose you could ! ” Miss Challis spoke 
with withering scorn ; and yet there was at the 


SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 197 


same time, and there had been all the while, a 
pathetic undertone in her voice of deep doubt and 
trouble. And suddenly now she turned to the 
others and threw out both her hands in a gesture 
of utter and terrible despair. “ It is of no use,” 
she cried. “ I don’t know whether this is my dog 
or not, and I never shall know. I left him in the 
music room and I find him out in the Heptagon 
Room ; and those boys have been here, and they 
may have taken my dog away and left theirs in 
his place, and they may not. No, no ! ” — She 
impatiently put up her hand at Johnnie as he was 
about to speak. — “ You need not say a word. I 
should not believe you if you told me. I never 
shall believe anybody. And I never shall know. 
O, dear ! O, dear ! O, dear ! What shall I do ! ” 
She looked piteously around upon them all, still 
with outstretched hands, seemingly about to burst 
into tears. 

But at that moment occurred a strange and 
startling interruption. Through the open hall- 
door and from the direction of the library sud- 
denly there came a noise — or rather a succession 


198 SOME ICE CREAM AND A PICKLE. 

of noises — the sharp yelp of a dog, the exclama- 
tion of a human voice, the sound of a falling body, 
and again the yelping of a dog. The whole group 
stood for a moment spell-bound. Miss Challis 
was the first to recover herself. “Ah ! ” cried she. 
“ It is the other dog ! Perhaps, after all, it is not 
too late.” And she darted from the room. 


CHAPTER XII. 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 



RISTRAM had witnessed it all through the 


-*■ crack of the music room door — the siege 
and storming of the pantry, the capture of Johnnie, 
and the latter’s ignominious treatment at the hands 
of his relentless captors. With the Commodore 
(as well as both the girls) now in the dining-room 
he had realized that his own retreat by the front 
door was at length possible ; but Tristram at least 
was no traitor ; he could not go and leave his 
friend in the enemies’ hands. Even to get safely 
off with his recovered dog (he fondly laid his hand 
on the head of the supposed Romulus as he so 
assured himself) he could not do that. Let it be 
defeat, even now, if it must be ; but not dishonor. 

But all in one moment, as he stood there peer- 
ing out, this feeling changed. He heard that 


*99 


200 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


question put by Miss Challis, “Where is your 
companion?” he saw Johnnie feebly motion with 
his hand; and he knew that he had been be- 
trayed. “ O, you coward ! You poltroon ! ” he 
muttered, shaking his fist at his friend. And at 
the moment he was thoroughly angry and disgusted, 
though no one knew better than he that nothing 
heroic was to be expected of Lovey. “Very well. 
So be it. I don’t think I am bound to stay here 
any longer on your account.” And taking Remus 
in his arms he stealthily passed out from the mu- 
sic room into the adjoining library, softly closing 
the door behind him, just as Miss Challis came 
in. 

The library was a handsome apartment with 
walls well lined with books. Tristram did not 
stop to note its appointments however. He did 
not stop, as his friend Johnnie might have done, 
even to help himself to a piece of cake from the 
basket that stood on the table. He went, with 
the dog, directly across to the hall door, and from 
there (first looking out to assure himself that he 
would not be seen from the dining-room) he 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


201 


stepped quickly to the outer door. Another mo- 
ment and he would be at liberty. 

But here, alas ! was another difficulty. The 
door was not only locked — this Tristram had ex- 
pected — but the key was gone. Miss Challis, not 
thinking what she was doing perhaps, had taken 
it out when she locked the door, just as she had 
done the key of the pantry. Tristram uttered his 
dismay in a low whistle. Then, seeing nothing 
better to be done, he turned back to the library; 
but at the door, noting the sudden silence that had 
fallen upon the dining-room, he halted to listen. 
He heard Miss Challis come in again from the 
Heptagon Room with the other dog, and he waited 
to catch what followed. Then, laughing to him- 
self at the turn affairs had taken, he hastened 
across the library to one of the long windows. 
Here was a way out at all events. The screen in 
the window stuck ; and, the better to raise it, he 
put the dog down on the floor ; but in so doing he 
accidentally let go the string. Remus, finding 
himself free (and possibly scenting the presence 
of another dog) started straightway for the door. 


202 * 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


Tristram sprang after just in time to set his foot 
upon the string, bringing the dog up with an 
abruptness that caused him to utter a cry. Then 
followed instantly the final mishap. In reaching 
forward to seize the dog Tristram brought his knee- 
cap into violent contact with the Commodore’s easy 
chair that stood by the table. The blow hurt him 
sorely, and he involuntarily lifted his leg from the 
floor and clasped his hands above the injured 
part, hardly able to keep from howling himself. 
Remus at the moment gave a vigorous pull at the 
string ; and our unfortunate hero, standing on one 
leg, lost his balance and fell with a crash to the 
floor; while the frightened dog, involved in the 
ruin, gave vent to another sharp yelp. There 
was an instant of awful silence and then the sound 
of approaching steps. Tristram realized that the 
game was up. He took the dog in his arms and 
sat there On the floor holding him tight, quite reck- 
less as to what might happen next. 

“Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish,” 
he declared aloud, “I’ll never let go this dog 
again.” 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


203 


“ Whose dog have you there ? ” 

Tristram looked up and there was Miss Challis, 
flushed and hostile, standing in the doorway. 
Romulus was with her, pulling at his strap now to 
get at the other dog. 

“ Whose dog have you there ? Tell me this 
instant ! ” The young lady sternly repeated her 
demand. She did not exhibit any surprise or in- 
dignation at finding him there, or triumph at hav- 
ing caught him, or wonder at his strange position. 
There was room in her mind for but one thought, 
one question : which of the dogs was hers ? 

Tristram deliberately got up from the floor, hold- 
ing Remus, at short quarters, by the string. The 
two dogs were now fully occupied with each 
other. 

“ You’ll excuse my sitting down,” he imper- 
turbably observed. “ Circumstances over which 
I had no control ” — 

“ Whose dog have you there ? ” once again the 
young lady demanded. 

“Well, Miss Challis,” said Tristram, “ if you in- 
sist upon knowing — he’s mine.” 


204 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


“ How do you know he is yours ? Where did 
you get him ? ” 

Tristram seemed to take a moment for reflec- 
tion, absently rubbing the side of his nose with 
his eyeglasses. “That,” said he, “is a question 
which, in the absence of counsel, I shall decline 
to answer.” 

“ Did you take him from the music room ? Tell 
me at once ! I must know ! ” She imperiously 
stamped her foot. 

Tristram screwed his face the least bit, not at 
all intimidated. He was in a thoroughly defiant 
mood now, and quite capable of “chaffing” even 
Miss Helen Challis. “Excuse me,” he replied, 
“ but I refuse to commit myself.” 

Miss Challis stepped forward (the Commodore 
and Jemima, with Johnnie also, were now close 
behind her) and searchingly bent her eyes on Re- 
mus as he stood at Tristram’s side. Then for a 
moment she looked down fixedly at Rom. Then 
her glance passed slowly several times between 
the two. And at length, with a deep sigh, she 
looked up slowly, shaking her head. “No,” she 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


205 


mournfully declared, “ I never shall know again 
which one of them is mine. I never could feel cer- 
tain now, no matter what anybody said. O, why ” 
— she turned with anguished voice to our hero — 
“ why did you come here, to rob me of my peace 
of mind forever ! ” 

At this juncture suddenly a new voice made it- 
self heard. Edward, the coachman, having just 
returned, had come in to ask some question of 
the Commodore. From the rear of the group he 
had caught sight of the two dogs and compre- 
hended Miss Challis’s trouble. Edward was an 
old and trusted servant, a quiet, sensible fellow who 
rarely said very much, but who always knew what 
he was talking about. 

“Why, Miss Helen,” he spoke up, “can’t you 
tell which is your own dog ? Wait a minute till I 
show you.” 

He advanced into the room — the others coming 
forward also — and looked down at the dogs, mar- 
velling no less than the rest at their wonderful re- 
semblance. “ They do look alike,” said he. “ As 
near alike as them two fire-dogs on the hearth 


2o6 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


there. However, I’m something of a dog-man 
myself, Miss Helen ; and I bought Remus for you 
in the first place. I reckon I can pick him out. 
Here, you sir, come here.” 

The last words were addressed to Romulus ; and 
as he spoke he stooped and took hold of the dog’s 
head, Miss Challis still holding the strap. He 
carefully examined the animal, his hair, his marks, 
his shape, the color of his eyes — finally opening 
his mouth and seeming to look down his very 
throat. Then he turned to Remus and — though 
much more briefly — subjected him to the same 
process. Then he rose to his feet. 

“ There's your dog, Miss Helen,” he said with 
cool positiveness, and pointed to Remus. 

“ You are quite mistaken, my friend,” Tristram 
instantly spoke up. “This dog is mine. I’ve 
owned him for a year.” 

“ Mistaken, am I ? ” said Edward. “ Maybe I 
am. You’ve owned that dog a year, have you ? ” 

“Yes ; and over,” returned Tristram. 

“Was there any particular mark about your dog 
by which you could identify him ? ” 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


207 


“ No,” said Tristram. “But that makes no dif- 
ference.” 

“Were any of his teeth broken, do you remem- 
ber?” 

“Why, yes,” Tristram exclaimed. “Now you 
speak of it, of course there was. One of his back 
teeth, in the lower jaw, on the right side, was 
broken off. I did it for him myself, one time, try- 
ing to get a croquet wicket away from him.” 

“Very good,” observed Edward calmly. “ Just 
look at that dog’s teeth, will you ? ” 

Tristram stooped down, perfectly unconcerned, 
and opened Remus’s mouth. A single glance 
sufficed to produce a change in his manner. He 
uttered an exclamation, dragged the dog nearer 
the light and looked again. But he looked in vain. 
The dog’s lower jaw was perfect ; every tooth was 
there. The inference of course was irresistible, 
though Tristram did not at the instant draw it. 
He looked up bewildered. “What does this 
mean? ” he asked. 

“ Look in the mouth of the other dog,” Edward 
told him. 


2o8 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


Tristram got up — absently handing Edward the 
string to which Remus was attached — and went 
over to where Romulus was standing. He stooped 
again and opened Rom’s mouth, just as he had 
done it a hundred times before; and there, plain 
as could be, was the broken tooth. The evidence, 
now, was absolutely conclusive. This dog was 
Romulus. Tristram straightened up once more, 
looking rather shamefaced. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said he, “ I don’t un- 
derstand it. I could have sworn by the good looks 
of all the Tuckermans that that dog yonder was 
mine. But he isn’t. He belongs to Miss Challis. 
This is my dog.” He laid his hand on Rom’s col- 
lar. 

“O, Edward,” Miss Challis joyfully cried out. 
“ Is this true ? Are you quite sure that that is 
Remus ? ” 

“ There isn’t a doubt of it, Miss Helen.” 

“ 0, I’m so glad ! ” Miss Challis dropped the 
strap and ran quickly over to Remus, putting her 
arms tight around his neck. “ I am so glad,” she 
repeated, “ to know with perfect certainty that he is 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


209 


mine. I shall keep- fast hold of him till that other 
one is gone, to make sure they don’t get mixed 
again.” She passed her hand fondly over the 
dog’s head. All at once she looked up very fiercely 
at Tristram. “ Look here, sir,” she cried. “ If 
this dog is mine, then you must have taken him 
from the music room.” 

“Yes,” said Tristram, “I may as well confess 
it; I did. I thought he was mine. And I don’t 
understand now — ” 

“Never mind, sir, what you don’t understand!” 
The young lady rose to her feet and with height- 
ened color confronted him. Tristram perceived 

/ 

instantly that a warm wave was approaching and 
about to become central in his vicinity, “/under- 
stand, sir! I understand that you have come into 
this house, secretly, at ten o’clock at night, and 
taken my dog — is not that my dog, sir ? ” 

“Yes,” Tristram humbly admitted, “it is.” 

— “Have come into this house,” the young lady 
went on, “ and taken my dog ; and would have 
gone off with him — stolen him — if you had not 
been stopped. Is that true or is it not?” 


210 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


“ Yes, ” T ristram again reluctantly acknowledged. 
“ I can’t deny it in the face of the evidence.” 

“Ah, then,” cried the young lady, while her 
black eyes snapped and her upraised finger shook 
itself fiercely at the cringing object of her denun- 
ciation, “you confess it, do you — you who ‘could 
not be mistaken ’ — you who ‘ knew your own dog’ 
— you confess that you mistook my dog for yours; 
nay, worse than that, that you actually brought 
your dog here, believing him to be mine, and left 
him here, and took mine , thinking he was yours — 
you confess all this ? Well, then ” — Miss Challis’s 
manner suddenly became calm with the calmness 
of withering irony — “may I ask what you think 
of yourself, sir ? ” 

“ I think,” responded Tristram with an air of 
conviction, “that I am a deep-dyed, double-dis- 
tilled, unmitigated, incurable idiot — about eight 
hundred thousand times as stupid as I thought 
you were when you mistook my dog for yours in 
the first place.” 

“ Oho!” Miss Challis’s tone was suddenly com- 
pletely changed; and changed also, marvellously 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


21 1 


changed, was her whole look and manner. Down, 
down went the mercury to regions of temperate 
mildness. In an instant, as it were, all was sun- 
shine and balm. Naples, Florida, Los Angeles, 
Araby the Blest, all combined, had been nothing 
to this. Tristram would fain have dwelt in such a 
clime forever. “ Oho ! ” cried Miss Challis, and 
fairly beamed upon him, while the motion of her 
finger now was in itself a kind of delicious, reassur- 
ing laughter. “You have said exactly what I 
wanted you to say. ‘ Eight hundred thousand 
times as stupid as I was.’ You confess it ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Tristram, smiling back at her. “ Or 
— I don’t mind making it a million, for that mat- 
ter.” He was now in a thoroughly generous mood. 

“ Never mind ; eight hundred thousand is near 
enough. Well, then, if you feel that way about it, 
I don’t know that I mind, now, acknowledging 
(though I never mea?it to do it) that / was mis- 
taken in the first place — when I took your dog 
away from you. Please forgive me.” Miss Chal- 
lis’s manner, at this last, was as pretty as her 
words. 


212 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


“Forgive you ! ” exclaimed Tristram. “I’ll for- 
give you, precious quick, if you will forgive me. 
I can understand your mistake well enough, when 
I look at the dogs. But what I don’t understand 
even now, is how I came to make mine. If you 
had my dog in-- the first place, and have had him 
ever since, then why isn’t that my dog ? ” He 
looked at Remus. 

“O,” cried Miss Challis, “but I haven't had your 
dog ever since.” And then she told of the change 
she had made in the dogs on the morning that Mr. 
Artemas Trimmer had come to see her. 

“ Ah ! ” murmured Tristram. “ That explains 
it.” 

“ Yes,” a voice echoed close beside him, “ that 
explains it.” It was Johnnie who, with the rest, 
had listened with vast interest to what had passed 
and to whom now all was also plain. 

“ Hello, Lovey, are you there ? ” said Tristram. 
“ It is thus then we meet.” He held out his hand ; 
he felt far too good at this moment to remember 
Johnnie’s treachery against him. 

Then he turned to the Commodore. “ I’m glad, 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


213 


sir, that you’ve seen fit to release my friend,” said 
he. “ He really isn’t such a hardened villain as 
he looks. And we beg your pardon, both of us, 
for the way we’ve come into your house to-night. 
Of course we’d no business to do it. Only, you’ll 
acknowledge, sir, that it was rather hard on us to 
have our dog taken away from us as he was, and 
nothing that we could say or do make any differ- 
ence.” 

“All right, sir! All right! ” returned the Com- 
modore bluffly. “ And we beg your pardon too. 
Only, Zounds !” — he gazed with renewed wonder 
upon the two dogs — “I don’t see how the dickens 
we could help ourselves. / can’t tell ’em apart 
now.” 

“This one is Romulus,” said Tristram, looking 
down at his own dog. 

“And this one is Remus,” said Miss Challis, 
shaking the string attached to hers. 

“Romulus and Remus,” repeated Jemima. 
“ Isn’t it queer that two dogs looking so much 
alike should have had names that go together 
too?” 


214 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


“ Miss Helen,” interposed Edward, who still lin- 
gered on the scene, “ I’ve a notion, if you please, 
about those dogs. Did you name your dog your- 
self, sir? ” This question was to Tristram. 

“ No,” answered Tristram, “the name came with 
him. I thought it a good one and so I kept it.” 

“Where did you get him?” Edward asked. 

“ I bought him at the big bench show in Boston, 
a year ago this spring.” 

“ Did the man you bought him of say anything 
about his having had a mate ? ” 

“ No,” said Tristram. 

“ What kind of looking man was he ? ” 

“ He was a short, stout, neat-looking man, a 
Scotchman. ” 

“ It’s the very one ! ” declared Edward. “ Now 
I’ll tell you. Just before that bench show you 
speak of, I bought Remus, in Boston, for Miss 
Helen — of just such a man, a Scotchman. He 
had two pups, twins, so near alike that I found it 
hard to choose between them. He said he hated 
to sell either ; he wanted to exhibit them together 
at the show. He told me this one’s name — 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


2I 5 


4 Remus ’ — when I took him. He didn’t tell me 
the name of the other one ; but I haven’t a parti- 
cle of doubt that it was 4 Romulus, ’ and that that 
is the dog.” 

44 It certainly looks so,” said Tristram. 

44 Then they are brothers ! ” cried Miss Challis, 
clapping her hands. She looked down rap- 
turously at the dogs. Here was a genuine ro- 
mance. 

And at that moment Romulus and Remus, fairly 
getting their heads together at last, gazed ques- 
tioningly into each other’s eyes, rubbed their black 
noses, whined delightedly, and then, each rising 
upon his hinder limbs, threw their fore legs about 
each other’s necks with all possible ardor and 
affection. Who shall say that they too did not 
realize at that moment the strange fact ( for fact it 
was ) in their history which had just come to light, 
and that each was not saying to the other, in lan- 
guage quite plain at least to them — 44 Then you 
are my long-lost brother ! ” 

44 Well,” Tristram at length observed with a sigh, 
taking his soft hat from his pocket and unrolling 


2l6 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


it. “ I suppose we ought to be going. I’m glad 
it’s all right at last. ” 

“ O, don’t go yet, ” cried. Miss Challis cordially. 
“ It’s not late. Sit down a few moments, do, and 
let us bring you some refreshments. We can’t 
offer you any ice cream,” she continued, after 
they were seated ; and she gave Johnnie a roguish 
glance, whereupon that young gentleman hung his 
head in confusion, remembering the empty saucer 
in the pantry. “ It is too soft, I’m afraid. But we 
can give you some cake. Jemima, pass the cake, 
please.” 

So Jemima took the cake basket from the table 
and offered it to Johnnie. “Will you take some 
cake, Mr. Lovering?” How she knew what his 
name was we do not pretend to say. Do not young 
ladies always know young gentlemen’s names ? 

“Ah, Miss Jemima,” observed Tristram, “Mr. 
Lovering always takes the cake.” And he said it 
with such desperate gravity that to this day Miss 
Jemima has not been able to determine whether 
he intended a joke or not. 

And then Mollie came in bringing some straw- 


ROMULUS ET REMUS. 


217 


berries, with sugar and cream ; and they all sat 
cosily around, the best of friends at last having 
the best of times. 

“Miss Challis, ,, said Tristram by and by, setting 
down his saucer and looking over to where, care- 
lessly thrown upon the table, lay a certain gayly 
embroidered object, “you have a beautiful racket- 
case there. May I look at it a moment ? ” 

He had reached the subject of lawn tennis at 
last. 



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